My ride on Monday began roughly 10 miles North of Blanding with a lovely flat tire. As I began to fix it my intricate inner workings made a point to remind me that I had yet to take my morning bathroom break.
The first thing I’ve come to enjoy about Utah is how easy it is to find a place to camp or shit. The night before I made camp simply by hopping a fence and setting up my bivy behind a shrub a couple yards from the road. I reckon there’s a good chance it was on private property but I failed to discover any sort of establishment in any direction and everything around here seems to be open range.
I relieve myself behind said bush beside the road and proceeded to repair my tube. I packed up and made good time through some pretty redundant cattle country until Blanding where I turned west onto highway 95.
Vehicles diminished as I peddled down an untrafficked though scenic back country highway. Headed towards Natural Bridges National Monument, I highly anticipated returning to where I roamed for 30-days with a NOLS canyoneering course two and half years ago. As I proceeded along the highway and up my first hill of the day the terrain around me gradually became increasingly more scenic. As I neared the top of the climb a gap in the high mesa before me appeared, a gateway to the wonderful canyonlands of southern Utah.
As I passed through the gap a powerful and dynamic landscape emerged before me, its beauty matched only by its vastness. Comb Ridge extended south to north above a shallow valley and further west networks of canyons were scattered across the landscape. I took a generous moment to soak everything in before ripping down the road into the valley, enjoying the warm air blowing over my body. Over the next two and a half hours, these moments of joy were relentlessly crushed by an immense and totally unanticipated uphill. My memory of the canyons as a relatively flat landscape compared to Colorado was as foolish as it was inaccurate. To make matters worse, my derailed decided to give up on me during the climb. The repair took a good hour out of my day.
I finally got to Natural Bridges National Monument around five in the afternoon. I recognized the dirt road that was the drop off point for my NOLS course and shared a moment of nostalgia with… well… no one because I’m doing this trip alone. I proceeded to the visitor’s center where there were a couple tourists pacing around the room and two girls working at a desk. One of them was pretty cute. I laid out a map and spent a good 20 minutes listening to her advice about the route ahead despite the fact that I already knew precisely where I was going.
After our little chat I left my panniers behind the visitor’s center and went for a ride around the park’s scenic loop. Oh how pleasant it was to ride without additional weight on my bike! Along the road I saw three of the park’s bridges, two of which I recognized from NOLS including Kachina Bridge which I remember had native ruins nearby.
As I hiked down to the bridge I met a couple taking photographs. I let them in on the location of the Indian ruins (which I guess is illegal, there is a notice nearby that declares something along the lines of “by reading this document you are agreeing not to tell anyone about the location of these ruins in order to reduce human impact”). As I hiked with them back to the trailhead they were pretty stoked about the ruins and showed a lot of interest in my little bike adventure. Upon mentioning my love for all-you-can-eat-Chinese buffets they even gave me some money so I could go all out the next time I encountered one.
I biked back to the visitor’s center to make some dinner and tea. My back had been bothering me a lot that day so I did a copious amount of stretching while I watched the sunset over the canyons, something that words nor pictures ever seem to serve justice.
By the time it got dark I got a serious second wind. I also promised the girl I spoke with earlier that I wouldn’t camp illegally in the park so I hopped on the bike and started booking it.
Something I’ve always appreciated about southern Utah are the stars. There happens to be some sort of mandate that all lights (which are few) be specifically designed to maintain the zero light polution in the area. They weren’t as spectacular as usual due to what was almost a full moon in the sky, but the moon provided so much light that I biked without a headlamp for the next three hours.
I was hauling. It was mostly downhill to Lake Powell from there and the wind had resided with the sun. I had the most phenomenal sensation of being completely alone. I had not found cellular service since Blanding and I had only seen three cars since departing the bridges. I was apprehensive about camping out of service in case something happened, but the clock struck midnight and I was forced to pull over to the side of the highway and rest after a very long day.
On Tuesday I woke up to a pretty magnificent sunrise and continued on West. Daylight brought light to the awesome monoliths whose silhouettes I could see the night before. The day’s ride was classic Utah.
I approached Hite alarmed at the water level of Lake Powell. Although the chocolate mlik-colored Colorado River still flowed past the mild winter had left it pretty dry. There was one building operating in Hite, the only source of food or gasoline along a 125 mile stretch of road. I stopped in eager to load up on calories. I bought a $2.50 burrito and a chocolate chop cookie ice cream sandwich, totaling around 1500 calories. After plenty of biking it made for a deliciously combo and replenished my body to tackle the abundant uphill throughout the remainder of the day.
The day dragged on. Mindful of 2,800 feet of uphill on top of 70 miles the next day I took my time in an effort to prevent my body from wearing out. I didn’t get to Hanksville until around 7 and the sun was beginning to set. In order to realistically make it to Zion by the 26th, I still had another 50 miles to bike that night. With the daunting task ahead of me I had only one choice as I rolled into town.
I strolled into the only restaurant open in town and ordered a massive hamburger with fries and a large chocolate and peanut butter shake. A couple people noticed me, sitting there in my biking gear smelling like shit and inhaling food alone. It was then that a super cool dude named Tyler approached me.
Tyler was travelling with his wife, Hannah. The were headed south to Escalante which happened to be one of my stops the next day. He got right to the point and asked if I wanted a ride. I was happy to accept.
We strapped my bike to the roof with webbing and hit the road. We cruised for nearly an hour, and I enjoyed the good conversation as we rolled through canyons over dozens of hills that I was happy I wouldn’t have to bike until 2 am. Not wanting to cop out of my climb the next day, I had them drop me off in Torrey where bid them farewell. When I discovered I was able to Jack some wifi from a nearby hotel I decided to post up behind it in a drainage ditch. I must have been spotted on camera because a man came out searching for me. Not wanting to seem suspicious, I made my presence known. He mentioned that he did indeed see me on the camera and I took a moment to explain my situation to him before asking if I could camp there. So long as I didn’t tell his boss he said it was fine with him and even brought out four delicious danishes for me.
Thankful for all the help I received as of late but exhausted I updated my blog and fell asleep.
Haulin' Hobo 