The face is weather-beaten and unshaved. A thick coat of reddish-brown dirt has enveloped his body. Time has taken its toll and already the smell of dirt, sweat, and sage permeates the air around him. His bicycle is loaded down with gear, but he’s not riding it, forced to push the heavy load thru inches of sand. For miles there is nothing but silence and a beautiful, yet empty, horizon. So began the first day of my cycling tour thru southern Utah and northern Arizona. What follows is just a few of the best highlights.
Having arrived in Denver after a long drive from Kentucky, the next morning found me on the Amtrak train headed for Green River. The train ride was cool; did ya’ll know that you’re allowed alcohol on the train? I arrived after dark and assembled my bike and gear by the light of a lone streetlight before heading out to camp on the outskirts of Green River that night. The next morning I bought a few groceries and then mounted my bicycle, fitted with 1.5 inch cycle-cross tyres. I headed southeast towards Moab along the dirt tracks. Soon the scenery and isolation was causing me to trip out like few times before. The tingling sensation was incredible!! Rock formations were dispersed across the horizon. Sage, cactus, and desert flowers filled in the areas in between along with lots of sand. The road was bumpy at best and the roads were largely unmarked. My one map proved to be lacking in detail, causing a long, but scenic side trip into the dead end Ten Mile Wash. By dusk I had cycled thirty miles and pushed my bike thru ten miles of deep sand, having traversed an area where few people choose to wander. The next day I arrived in Moab, an epicenter of mountain biking, and resupplied for the journey ahead, which included a better set of maps.
Cycling south of Moab the next day I took a wrong turn and ended up scrambling down some steep slickrock with all my gear and bike. Once I reached the wash I still had a few creek crossing to reach the main road again. That night I camped at around 9,500 feet having begun an insanely steep dirt track thru the Abajo Mountains. The next morning I had to push my bike up to the summit thru a bit of packed snow. The long descent into Blanding was slow and rock-strewn. In town I found two Japanese cyclists traveling from Salt Lake City to the southern tip of Argentina, and they had just met each other in Blanding!
A few days later found me sitting comfortably on a ferry across Lake Powell. The historic Burr Trail was my next destination. The views from the road were incredible and once again the road was largely devoid of traffic! Late the next day I arrived in Boulder and shortly began the equally historic Hell’s Backbone scenic backway. After a week of epic cycling I arrived in Escalante, Utah. The grocery stores, along with a lot of other stores were closed, it being Sunday (LDS). So I scrounged groceries at the only open gas station and after stowing my bike, hitched a ride to the Escalante River trailhead. The hike was full of awesome surprises, tons of creek crossings, and a bit of worry. The next evening I arrived back in Escalante with sore muscles and battered feet. It was worth it though.
The next morning I rested up a bit and then headed West. The ride along the Cottonwood Canyon Road south of Cannonville was incredible!! Unfortunately my camera battery died, but I was able to purchase a disposable camera. The colorful cockscomb rock formations and golden cottonwoods added greatly to the allure of the canyon. Plus traffic was scarce. After spending my last night camping in Utah, the next day I cycled thru Page, Arizona, stopping by the controversial Glen Canyon Dam. Although this was the official end of my trip, I still had to cycle the highway to Flagstaff. The road and traffic was miserable after the scenery and isolation of Utah, but I had many great memories. Once again southern Utah had not disappointed, and it totally changed my perspective of bicycle touring; no longer will I be limited to the paved byways. Throughout the past thirteen days I had retraced the routes of the Mormons, John Wesley Powell, and Edward Abbey’s Monkeywrench Gang. Long live Hayduke and the bicycle!
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