I've reduced the mileage for the next few days because I've had a realization.
Pushing myself out here is dangerous. I am overly-exposed, often without water or food stops for dozens of miles. I'm also getting into elevation profiles that mimic some stages of the Tour de France--or at least they feel like it. I've also been having a hard time really forcing myself to stop and enjoy the views, even if they are barren mountains and cacti.
There's a strange beauty and desolation in the desert. It's extremely rare that there is a building of any sort between cities. I have large periods without phone service or seeing another car. For instance, today I had a realization that the last time I saw a car was before I turned off one desert road for another, my only turn for the day. I checked my GPS to see how many miles back that turn was. Twenty-five miles. In terms of time that's three hours. There are instances where I am the biggest living thing for miles around me. It's a thin line between peace and terror. The only thing keeping me at peace is how much water I have. Fortunately, I have other things to distract me in this vast openness; like figuring out what time it is.
I'm currently in the Mountain Time Zone (two hours behind EST); but, Arizona has, smartly, opted out of Daylight Saving Time (subtract another hour from EST). So I'm technically three hours behind folks back home. However, in Arizona certain tribes of the Navajo Nation do follow daylight savings time (add an hour from EST); however, tribes of the Hopi Nation, that live within the geographic borders of the Navajo Nation, don't follow daylight savings. And as I ride across Arizona, my phone will inevitably jump between towers. So when someone asks me what time it is I like to look at the sun in the sky, think for a moment, look back at them and respond: "No clue." Because I really have no idea what time it is. As long as I'm in a tent before the sun sinks, I'm not too concerned what time it is.
Still no cloud sightings.