Day 10 - The Descent. After climbing past 9900 feet riding into Yosemite, we broke camp this morning around 4500 feet and began the descent into Death Valley. The weather was chilly in the morning, but not nearly as cold as the past handful of days had been. On the ride to the entrance to the valley, we followed along the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Mile after mile, a wall of rock rise to our right as we went south, and the land sloped up in a dramatic arc to meet it. Never before had I seen so clearly the forces of nature at work - it was impossible not to imagine the massive plates of the earths crust coming together along that line, and the plate we were riding on being pushed upward to form that line.

We headed east down into Death Valley, coming through one pass and dropping from 4500 feet down to 2000, then climbing into another pass at 5000 feet before starting our final descent. The last stretch of road into the valley proper was unremarkable - two lanes, straight downhill - except that it continued downhill for miles, and didn't stop until we were more than 200 feet below sea level and in a heat of more than 100 degrees. Once again I have pictures I will post here, but they don't come close to showing how vast and desolate the valley is, and how it wears on you as you ride through. We were sweating out water as quickly as we could drink it, and had to stop much more frequently than we had previously.

From there, we had lunch in Pahrump, NV before continuing on to Las Vegas for a picture in front of the famous sign. We continued in desert heat to the Hoover Dam, across the dam to the Arizona side and back, and then north through beautiful Lake Mead Recreation Area back through Arizona and into southern Utah, camping just over the border.

We have now covered over 10,000 vertical feet from the highest in Yosemite to the lowest in Death Valley, and more than 5300 miles in 10 days. We are all starting to long for home, even with a few more incredible stops ahead of us. I miss my kids, and can hear how they miss me when I talk to them. Even as this life on the road has become routine - breaking camp, riding, eating, gassing the bikes, seeing so much of this beautiful country in all it's diversity, setting up camp and getting ready for the next day - and no matter how much I don't want this journey to end, I find that I miss so much of my daily routine at home. It will be good to be home. Just a few more days.