Torrey --> Cannonville (6 miles west of Henrieville)After eight days of riding, so many gallons of sweat had passed through my clothes that I nearly considered them washed. I thought I smelled fine, but in a phone call back home to Mom, she reminded me that perhaps I was like that stinky kid at school who was either oblivious or indifferent to his stank……... Oh the insight of a first grade teacher! Just in case, I decided to wash my clothes at the campground. In an effort to be thorough, I put every item of clothing I had in the wash, including the clothes off my back and the underwear off my saddle sore butt (I guarantee you would do the same if you only had two pairs of underpants and only one chance to wash them every week and a half…..) For the next hour and a half I strolled around the campground wearing nothing but a 2 ft X 3 ft, paper thin, blue, packlite towel that could easily squeeze into a clinched fist, much like a handkerchief in the hand of a magician. And to top off my new style, this particular Tuesday morning in Torrey happened to be the windiest on record. All in all, the inhabitants of Sand Creek Hostel and Campground were getting quite a show that morning.
Utah is not flat! I crested over a 9500 foot pass as I rode south towards Boulder and Escalante. I climbed out of the dessert and into an alpine paradise no different than what I experienced in high Colorado save the red, white, and orange rocks that made the valley floor. From the top of the climb I could see the entire rim of Capitol Reef N.P. Some parts of the climb exceeded a 14 percent grade and were certainly no fun until the ride down.
The descent took me onto a 6 mile stretch of road affectionately called The Hogback; it starts at the intersection of The Devil’s Backbone….. The Hogback is a poorly conceived excellently built strip of pavement that runs the rim of a narrow rock formation that separates two canyons that lead into Escalante. The two lane road is essentially one lane with double yellows painted down the middle. Any one of the foreign tourists need only to forget which side of the road he belonged on and I’d be freefalling for about 10 seconds while by body and bike plummeted 2500 ft to the canyon floor. So it was fair to say I rode swiftly and defensively into Escalante sometimes hitting speeds approaching 50 mph and always outlining the commanding abyss with the blacks of my tires. This was the most fun I’ve had since pee wee football!
The confines of the bike created days of one on one time with myself. Most of this time I spent thinking about something worthwhile, but on the climb out of Escalante Grand Staircase N. M. I had convinced myself that somewhere ahead on my route there was an ice cream truck that had run out of gas. In this fantasy, the truck driver ran up to my bike and begged me to join him in the refrigerated interior of his trailer to consume scores of delicious iced cream treats. FYI, an oasis of ice cream failed to appear at the top of any of the grueling climbs….
After I left the E. G. Staircase N. M., which we have good ole Bill Clinton to thank for preserving, it was staring to get dark and I was in need of water and a place to sleep. No town ahead (within reasonable distance) boasted a population beyond 200 and I was ready to call it quits for the day considering by bike was making some awful noises. The two brass screws that held my rack and panniers on to the bike had finally broken in half from the repetitive abuse from 789 miles of riding. The load was holding on due only to my sheer will and a few creatively placed zip ties. I wobbled through Henrieville, which turned out only to be a few houses scattered in the dessert night, and on to Cannonville, which had an open market and a KOA Campground!
I ate junk at the market while talking to the cashier. He was decked out in Boston everything; Red Sox hat, Celtics shorts, and a Beantown USA T-shirt. I asked where he was from(just to be a smart ass), and to my surprise he said he had never lived outside of Cannonville, Utah…..(Population 148.) This gentleman was obviously confused about how far away from Massachusetts he actually was, but he wasn’t completely lost as he did offer the great suggestion to stay underneath the bridge I had crossed coming into town. Rather than pay the 36 dollar KOA fee I just stole a shower from their bathhouse and walked back to my dry riverbed and ramen.
Day: 102.38 mi
Total: 789.71 mi
Elev. Climbed: 5200 ft
Elev. Difference: -1000 ft
Elev. Peak: 9600 ft
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