Day 19 – Sand, Slot Canyons, and Milkshakes What a day. The adventure-to-cycling ratio was off the charts. I started the morning with a quiet cup of coffee at Atlatl Campground in Valley of Fire State Park, then set off through the sandstone landscape toward Silica Dome. The ride through the park was gorgeous—towering red rock formations, endless desert views, and a surprising number of longhorn sheep. From Silica Dome, I turned onto a dirt administrative road that quickly disappeared into sand dunes and cactus. A sign of things to come. I pushed the bike through a stretch of deep sand until the road picked back up again. Based on satellite maps, trail overlays, and a conversation with a park ranger, I had mapped a route that should have connected back to the highway. But the ground truth was very different. I rolled straight into a silica mining operation—an ugly scar on public land. The route was completely cut off by fencing, heavy machinery, and dust. These kinds of industrial sites are a blight—permanently disfiguring the landscape, poisoning nearby communities, and stealing beauty from all of us. Cliffed out in nearly every direction, I was lucky to have a sliver of cell service and enough battery to study satellite imagery. Backtracking would take the rest of the day and a brutal uphill grind. My only option was a dry riverbed to the north that eventually intersected a dirt road. Getting there meant a steep descent into an unknown canyon—one I couldn’t verify was passable. I double-checked the route, my water, and the maps again. Then I committed. The terrain was harsh. Jeep trails turned to erosion. Sand made pedaling impossible. After nearly an hour of rugged cross-country travel, I reached the edge of the canyon—only to find it was a full-on slot canyon, complete with cliffs and dry waterfalls. Totally impassable with a loaded bike. I scrambled along the rim until I found one rocky chute that looked like it might go. It still required a quarter-mile of canyon floor travel, but it was my only shot. I lowered each pannier down separately, then the bike. That 1/4 mile became 4 miles of lifting, scrambling, dragging, and repeat. Finally, I hit the sandy wash at the canyon’s end. From there, it was another mile of ankle-deep sand pushing to reach the dirt mining road. Posted signs warned the public to stay out—even though the road cuts across public land. I rolled past them, tired but moving. Eventually, I made it back to pavement. I hit Overton and immediately crushed a full lunch and two milkshakes. From there, it was back on the road—north on Highway 169 with a solid bike lane and a good tailwind. I needed those calories. Before long I reached the on-ramp to I-15. It was intimidating, but legal—and the shoulder was the most generous of the trip so far, a full 10 feet between me and traffic. After a steady climb, I was treated to a long, smooth descent. The kind of low-grade cruise cycle tourists dream about. The miles melted away. I rolled into Mesquite right at sunset. I had planned to camp, but the morning's canyon expedition earned me a hotel room, a hot meal, and the promise of an easy breakfast tomorrow. I’ve got a few chores to take care of in the morning and the rest is more than welcome. --- We’ve made incredible progress on the fundraiser, and the support continues to mean the world. If you’d like to help spread the word, please share the fundraiser with your friends and family. Every share helps raise awareness and makes a difference. 👉 [https://gofund.me/730f7a59](https://gofund.me/730f7a59) I’ve also been posting more stories and updates on Instagram—if you want to see more of the day-to-day and some wild desert photos, check it out: [@briangreeson](https://www.instagram.com/briangreeson) Thanks again for following along and for being part of this ride. I’m excited for what’s ahead. And as always, **keep on pedaling.**