It was 114 degrees. It felt like riding in an oven. The sweltering heat now was oppressive. We hoped that once we hit Hwy 60 and got up to cruising speed that we would be able to tolerate the heat.
It was about a 15 minute drive on a 5-lane street to get to Hwy 60 and at 10 minutes out we stopped for Jackie to put cold clothes on her thighs. She was wearing black jeans that were soaking up the sun to the point of burning her skin. We hit Hwy 60, which is a 4-lane divided highway running northwest toward Las Vegas. We had to stop in the shade of the first overpass for water on Jackie’s head. I knew this was not going to be sustainable, but at this point I was ok myself. The next stop was five miles further off on a blacktop 2-lane with half a shoulder width of gravel, with NO shade anywhere and Jackie was unable to go any farther. She is suffering from heat exhaustion again. She gave it her best, but she just could not ride in this heat and these clothes.
So, I am helping Jackie get some Essentia water down and a little food. She started to perk back up and I was fine. But all of a sudden, I started to feel light headed as well, close to fainting, in a matter of about two minutes. The only shade was from my bike, if I sat on my running board. Obviously, the electrolyte replacement was not enough and if we didn’t get out of this furnace quickly, we would be in big trouble. I asked Jackie to wave somebody down. The first car was three guys coming from a nearby golf course. They kindly offered us their air-conditioned SUV. We all clambered in, with one guy laying in the back with their golf bags. They offered us more water and within 10 minutes we were both cooled down enough to go find some shelter from this 114 degree sun, like a breathing furnace that we have to get out of. But go where? Just up the road was the town of Wittmann, about three miles or so. We decided to go there for shelter until it was dark and ride to Las Vegas at night.
We turned right off from Hwy 60 to a very small part of the small town of Wittmann, which was separated by the highway. We should have turned left, crossed the divided highway and into the main town, but I think my semi-conscious brain turned the wrong way. Our first stop was next to a small church under shade of a scrappy little tree and we sat on a couple of cement blocks that I dragged over. This spindly little tree and its small patch of shade, even with the breeze from the dessert, definitely was not our salvation. We had to do better. We needed to be inside, in air conditioning someplace, real soon, or we would not make it until night fall.
There was a railroad track paralleling the highway and there was a very long, slow train coming along, blocking the road to the main part of Wittmann. We stayed under that spindly little tree for about 20 minutes, until the train finally cleared the highway so that we could cross. I seemed to be moving in slow motion as we crossed the train track and highway and headed for the ever-present Dollar General. On the way, I spotted the Post Office up ahead, with welcoming solid shade from the building on the parking lot. It’s a public building, and it should be open, and it should be air conditioned. It was like the Gods were looking over us, and we sped right up to the front and parked.
Now it’s 4:45pm. We have come a whopping 25 miles! The Post Office had closed at 4:30p but the lobby was open 24/7 for the boxes and yes, it was air conditioned! So, we hauled the cooler in and sat on the floor to recover and wait until dark. A United States Post Office never felt so good. There was one wall plug that we used to charge our phones as we sat on the floor. It didn’t matter that there were no chairs. We thankfully found a place to shelter and recover. We were out of the sun with its fiery breath!
This blessed little one-horse town had a busy Post Office. We were there about three and a half hours and at least 40 people came in for their mail. Some spoke and some didn’t. Some wanted to chat and some were quite skeptical of these two women escaping the sun and hanging out in their Post Office. One guy said that we were making good use of our tax dollars! There was a party store across the street so we individually walked over there for snacks and ice cream. They did not have a public bathroom so we had to improvise. The back side of the building worked just fine but I was wide-eyed for snakes.
While sitting there in the Post Office, so thankful in the cool air, I saw a scrawny, chicken-like bird scrabbling around outside in the gravel and weeds. She was fun to watch with her bushy blue-black crest and mottled plumage among the gravel. How interesting and hope inspiring that this seldom seen and underappreciated Roadrunner would come to visit us in our near disaster. I was mesmerized by the energy this bird had in this stifling heat. This Roadrunner, revered for their “courage, strength speed, and endurance” gave us the courage to face the night ahead of riding in the dark of the dessert while the sun is gone to rest.