What appeared on a map to be a benign stretch of road from Placerville, CA to Lake Tahoe, CA wound up being a two day affair that involved one 31 mile, 13,000 vertical foot climb that I am sad to say included a few stretches of pushing our bikes and trailers. Our average speed was a record-breaking 6 miles per hour. Now, I realize that for all of the non-US Celsias.com readers my metric-less statistics must carry less direct impact, and that given a physics degree I should be able to convert, but old habits die hard.

An interesting twist was added to the day when we stopped atop a breathtaking 7,000ft+ pass to take some footage, my sleeping bag fell off my pack and rolled towards the street. Jon ran and grabbed it, then threw it back to me. However, due to a slight miscalculation it went over my head and straight off a 2,000ft cliff. I just about threw him after it.

Last night we camped on the shore of Silver Lake on Route 88, waking up to a fabulous view and an icy swim. We pedaled on empty stomachs to the Kirkwood Inn Restaurant where we made short work of what would normally be a large meal. I can not overstate the sheer volume of food and calories that one consumes on a trip like this: three meals and constant snacking each day still leave the constant feeling of an empty stomach.

Over lunch we shared our adventure with a few fellow patrons, most of whom gave us the reaction we have come to love; "you're doing what!?", however one couple had just completed the local Lake Tahoe Death Ride, where in a single day they climb 16,000 vertical feet and pedaled 160 miles at high altitude. That shut us up in a hurry.

We got back on our bikes and started our wobble uphill for the final 30 miles to Lake Tahoe. Feeling like I was dragging a second body, I took the opportunity to take a break to do some filming of the Sierra Peaks that have been left nearly bare this summer as a result of only 40% of the average snowfall arriving this past winter, the lowest accumulation on record. [Note: There is a testosterone induced fear, when biking with two other 22 year old guys, that when you need to stop everyone to catch your breath it shows weakness - taking opportunities to film has been a wonderful way around this].

Anyway, as I got back on my bike, with my two companions long gone up the road, I immediately noticed it was harder to pedal than usual, every cyclist knows this feeling and the accompanying question of 'is it me or the bike?'. It is an unfortunate query to find one's self in, because if it is the bike... you have a problem, and if it's you... you have a different but no less troublesome problem. In this particular instance it turned out to be the bike (which oddly enough made me feel better); I had somehow broken two spokes and as a result my wheel looked like my personal attempts to draw a circle freehand. I also had no spares or idea how to go about remedying the issue.

So 29 miles from my destination I hit the low point of the journey and stuck out my thumb. My saving grace was Brad, a recent retiree returning from a long day of kayaking. He informed me that the next bike shop was in Meyers, CA; a measly four miles from my destination. To add insult to injury virtually the whole ride to the shop was downhill, descending 2,000ft to Lake Tahoe. It would have been one of the more satisfying and exhilarating rides of the trip.

But, as the saying goes, when God closes a door he opens a window. The bicycle shop I was taken to in Meyers was home to Jeff Boone. Jeff, aside from managing to salvage my dismembered wheel for $20, when I told him about the trip he informed me that his girlfriend worked for a local non-profit - the Sierra Nevada Alliance, which is dedicated to addressing the impacts of climate change on local ecosystems and economies. He put in a call and set me up an interview for an hour later with the SNA's director Joan Clayburgh. I had not been able to set up a single Tahoe area interview due to lack of internet access along the way, so this was a lucky find to say the least.

Joan guided me through the prospects for a Sierra Mountain Range set to lose 25-40% of its snowpack by 2050 and 75-90% by 2100. Being an avid skier, this was a disheartening prospect if for no other reason than a Tahoe without skiing would not be Tahoe at all. But the issues ran much deeper. Nearly 60% of California gets its drinking water from Sierra snows and rains. The human cost of those rivers drying up would be beyond measure. Coupled with that loss will be the outright destruction of untold numbers of ecosystems, regional extinctions, species migrations through areas that have since been developed... imagine bears trying to move north from Yosemite; how many would survive crossing the myriad roads and communities standing between them and untouched land to the north? Looking at climate change on a local level really brought the issue home for me (though yes, I am actually from the east coast).

Anyway, time for bed and I am sure I will sleep well in the brand new sleeping bag I have courtesy of Jon.

Note: Interview/itinerary suggestions for the trip can be emailed to me.