An Epic Journey (Part 1)
The morning after the state was ignited by dry lightning my compatriots and I loaded our high tech mountain bikes and gear into the plane and flew out across Nevada in the pre-dawn light. I could see numerous small fires as we crossed the Sierra Nevada foothills, realizing it was a good week to be clearing out of Northern California. We had nice tailwinds and clear skies all the way to Moab, Utah. We descended out of 12,000 feet over Canyonlands National Park, where we could see the confluence of the Colorado and Green Rivers cutting through the red rock desert.
Once in Moab, we celebrated our arrival with a cold beer and a swim in a local creek. Early the next morning, before it got too hot, we rode our bikes out to the Slickrock Bike Trail for a most amazing cycling experience. My friend Joey described it as a "mountain bike freeway" and a "roller coaster ride." That afternoon we caught a bus to Telluride, Colorado, where we enjoyed a fine steak dinner before setting out on the dusty trail. Telluride is a breathtaking place; a ritzy old mining town nesled in a deep, deep valley, with 13,000 foot peaks on three sides. If and when I ever get back into winter sports, this is the place I want to visit.
The next morning we loaded down our mountain bikes with gear and food, then set out climbing on the 17 mile dirt road to Last Dollar Pass. This is the same route that Butch and Sundance took after robbing the bank in Telluride. The top of the pass is 11,200 feet, and it was here that we found our first night's accommodations, a small cabin, or "hut", that had food, water and bunks for us to sleep. The view of the San Juan Mountains was phenomenal, and the passing thunderstorms kept us in our rain gear.
The second day's ride, after a pancake breakfast, took us back down the other side of the mountains, into a valley shadowed by snowy peaks and filled with wild flowers and cattle ranches. After crossing the valley, we climbed up to the top of the Uncompagre Plateau. (I think the spelling is correct, but not sure) This amazing feature, although dwarfed by many of the surrounding mountains, is a flat area roughly 25 miles by 100 miles, covered with aspen and spruce forest. Riding through this forested area, you tend to forget that you are breathing thin air at 10,000 feet. At about 30 miles, we reached our second hut, nestled in the woods on the plateau. The riding had been a mixture of dirt and gravel roads.
The entire third day was spent on top of the plateau, following a wide gravel road through national forest land. It was not exciting riding, except for a diversion to a single track trail for about 7 miles. This was our first taste of technical terrain while sporting 20 plus extra pounds on the rear of the bicycle. The extra weight in the rear made downhill braking better, but the front end tended to float in corners, and overall the bike was less stable. We got the hang of it, though, and had lots of fun jumping over fallen aspen logs and roots, powering through snow patches, and mucking into small creeks and mud bogs.
By the fourth day we had made a system out of getting up, getting coffee and breakfast going, packing our lunches and cleaning up the hut. This day we broke out of the trees and rode the edge of the plateau with a view of Southeastern Utah's La Salle Range to our west. We knew that we would be crossing this range of 12,000 foot peaks in order to get back to Moab, but that was still a couple days ride ahead. The riding was scenic but not challenging, and after our customary 35 miles or so, we rode into a horse ranch which not only housed our hut, but a hot shower room fed by a spring and a propane tank. We washed off 4 days of sweat and grime with great pleasure. There was a small ranch house on the property, and we saw a young couple drive in in a jeep. The couple were friends of the land owner, and they were celebrating their first anniversary together. We shared a campfire with them, and Cody, the husband told us of his job as a professional horse trainer. He was humble and soft spoken and came across as the "real deal".
The fifth day finally brought us off the Uncompagre Plateau. We dropped off a shelf down a fairly difficult single track trail which followed a creek down a canyon. We ran into quite a few off roaders (jeeps, ATVs, motorcycles) in this area. The number of jeep trails and routes were staggering. Finally we just completely ran out of plateau, and we were greeted by a sheer drop off down to the Dolores River, which quickly dropped from about 7000 feet to about 4500 feet. The dirt road we followed clung to the edge of the canyon until hitting the dry, sandy wash at the bottom. For the last few miles it was steep and sandy, so deep you had to get all your weight to the rear of the bike to stay upright. At the bottom of the canyon, on the river, was the small town of Gateway, Colorado. Our dusty hut was alongside the Dolores River. The temperature was near one hundred and the deer flies were biting. This was the most miserable night of the trip, but we needed to get rested for the next morning's 4000 foot climb into the La Salle Range.