I once read an account of a guy travelling down hw-395 on his bike, across an isolated section of the Mojave Desert, and having someone in a car pull a gun on him. For some unknown reason this memory popped into my head as I watched the large lorry travelling in the opposite direction crest the rise. As I watched, the lorry swerved onto our side, practically forcing Patrick and I off the road. After he passed us, the lorry swerved back onto his side again. I could pretend that he had lost concentration, but I don't think so.
Deserts do scary things to people.
We got petrol at the Nevada State line and went over the Sacramento Pass across into Ely. At Ely, we grabbed yet more petrol and consulted the map and came up with the latest problem and something we'd been expecting for a while when crossing Nevada. It was 160 miles to Tonopah. I asked two garage attendants where they thought the next petrol station might be, but they didn't look as if they'd ever been out of Ely, let alone to Tonopah. Then I came across a guy who looked like he drove a tow-truck and asked him.