I didn’t sleep last night. The tent was shaking and flapping in the gale force winds, and I lay supporting the frame from gusts in all directions. The rest of the day I was like a zombie staggering on – pushing against the strong winds and dreaming of sleep in a warm, wind-free place.
Devils Marbles
When I got up, Clement’s tent was gone – he’d dismounted it to prevent the wind from destroying it. Mine was only held in place by my panniers placed at the four corners.
The weather had changed. Stronger winds and colder. A few rests at roadhouses (including an alien roadhouse) was an attempt to regain my will to continue. I was never motivated today, though, as the road was absolutely dead straight and flat into the wind, and I was quite simply tired.
Stuart Highway
arctic-cycler.com 