On Friday I rode out of Hikertown, where I had spent the previous night in comfort thanks to Bob, our host there. A storm was predicted for the next day, but I thought i could beat it to the end of my day's ride, at mile 540, in the hills above the desert, where wind turbines dotted the ridges. The day before, my mom and I had cached water at a halfway point, expecting a hot, dry slog through the sand. But as the storm bore down, the day turned cool and blustery, and neither horse was thirsty when we stopped at the cache. I continued on as the clouds darkened and rain began to fall. My mom had trouble finding us in the maze of dirt roads among the wind turbines, but eventually we met up--and just in time, too, as lightning began to illuminate the sky.