Jeremy's Bike Blog

I got up as Judy and Kerry were rigging up their trailer and packing up.  They offered me a cup of coffee that I gladly accepted, calling it ‘hot liquid mood enhancer’.  Not long after, they were ready to roll and we wished each other farewell.

Loaded up, I rode down to the small bakery between the campground and visitor center and got some more coffee and talked to a couple of retirees who are advocates for the Adventure Cycling Association in Missoula, MT.

At the visitor center, my decision of whether to go a shorter 4×4 route or the longer paved route was made easy by the ranger that promised the former would bring many miles of pushing the bike through sand.  What was I just saying about not doing that as much?

I pedaled off to Torrey, where I stopped into the visitor center, got a great state-wide map of Utah, and tried (for some time) but failed to use their internet to upload my previous post.  I went into town center and stocked up on supplies, got and ate a sandwich, and tried some other WiFis.  At that point WordPress decided that my latest draft was in fact empty of all but title, and I would have lost all my work had I not seen that particular failure mode before and drafted the text of my post in GMail, which is what I copied to make my picture-free post.

Onwards towards Boulder(, UT) and Escalante, I was feeling kinda defeated, and generally lethargic.  Reflecting on this, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really taken any extended break from eat/cycle/sleep in the last 2 weeks.  It’s all too easy to get into a mode where if it’s not dark out, and you’re not eating, then you’re pedaling.  I wouldn’t say that I was “bonked” for lack of calories, but I was, perhaps needing some down-time.  So, even though it was only 5pm when I crossed over into Dixie National Forest land, and the sun wouldn’t be setting until 8, I found an inconspicuos spot to set up camp off the side of the road.  I ate a ton of trail mix and PB&Js, and promptly passed out.  I slept lightly, waking up every couple of hours, but also slept well and restfully, and by the next morning, I felt markedly better.

Good thing, I had about 3000 feet to net to the pass before Boulder, and a bit more than that including downs and ups on the way.  I crossed paths with Simon, a touring cyclist from Switzerland, going in the other direction.

I got to Boulder at about 1pm, checked out the Anasazi State Park Museum, had a salad at the overpriced, but passable Burr Trail Grill, then a coffee at the cafe next door chatting with the barrista about her travels in Nicaragua.

Another couple thousand feet of climbing followed, but with plenty of coffee and rest, I was in good spirits.  At my first climb out of Boulder I was flagged down by a woman in a red pick up who was coming home from work at Kiva Coffee, a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere (between Escalante and Boulder) and stopped at a scenic overlook of Boulder, for no particular reason other than to say hi and ask about my travels.  We chatted for maybe 5 minutes, and then I continued on.

At the Hogsback, a strip of road that runs along the crest of a ridge, I encountered a caravan of 4 RVs carrying German tourists.  I welcomed them, on behalf of America.  They spoke very little English, but seemed to understand and appreciate the gesture.

I descended down into Escalante as the sun was setting and stopped into the heritage center and learned about the insanity that was Joseph Smith and company’s descent down the so called “hole in the rock”.  Further into town, I ran into Ted, another touring cyclist, from Alaska.  Ted was hilarious, his rig a couple of baskets that as he describes “is a work in progress” even though he’s almost 2 weeks into his adventure.  I offered to cycle a few miles back the way I came so we could camp together, and we had a super fun, entertaining evening trading road stories.  His mode of travel was reminiscent of my travels a couple of decades ago, dumpster diving and having a well-deserved (IMHO) pride in making due on the fringes and excess of our society.  I was glad to hear that dumpster diving is still viable, having had the impression that it stopped being so in the mid-90s as food sellers started making a point of compacting their discarded consumables and keeping them under lock and key.  He had a lexus logo plate duct taped to his front basket, and his primary map is a place mat that he picked up in a diner after hitching a ride from Arizona up into this area of Utah.  The rest of his rig makes me feel, in comparison, like the most tricked out, yuppie, credit-card tourer I’ve ever encountered.  So, I had nothing but respect for his ‘fuck-it’-itude, and while I like the think that I’m minimalistic in terms of my gear and my ride, but Ted had me beat, hands down.

We enjoyed a beautiful sunset, staying up chatting until 10:45, then turned in to our respective bivvys.