Been a while, thought I'd post a story of a recent bike trip up to Utah. The trip was just over 650 miles and took 5 days.
Bike Trip to Utah-- August 2008
I don't know what led me to decide to ride to Utah prior to riding in the 300 Warriors charity ride, I only know it was impulsive and certain. A personal challenge to be sure, but I felt it was within me and that I could complete the ride to Utah with a little left over to give to the 300 Warrior's Charity ride prior to the 4th Stage of the Tour of Utah.
My thought was to ride up to American Fork, Utah, to my old friend Gary Parke's house. I would carry all essentials and buy food and water along the way to replace an average daily consumption of what turned out to be 7000-8000 calories. Kyle Jorgensen would then pick me up from there and take us to Park City for the ride.
I had trouble in my bike set-up and thought I was good to go. I had attached a seat post mounted rack that my panniers could attach to. That was not so good as I would discover the morning I left. As I mounted the bike and began pedaling to leave, the bike just wobbled through the frame. Too much weight and placed too high on the bike I surmised. There went two days of planning and preparation. I quickly removed the pannier set-up and placed everything into the largest Camelbak I've ever seen, the H.O.S.S. I had to leave a few things, including the bladder, but got most of what I thought I'd need into it.
It's strange taking off alone, I thought I would need to rely on my ipod but I never used it that first day, I guess I had a lot to think about. So I rode and rode, and it got hotter and windier. In fact it was pretty warm from the time I left. I didn't get off until 7:30ish due to the luggage exchange situation. Even my prayer wasn't until about an hour into the ride. It's kinda fun to pray out loud by yourself, if someone does see you, they just think you're singing, or crazy.
I was hungry by Cordes Junction and stopped into Subway. I was sitting there eating and being entertained by overhearing three men talk about how they were going to convert the world to Christ. I admired their enthusiasm, but they were so serious, almost fanatical in their comments. It got uncomfortable when they realized they were being overheard so I moved on, secure in my religion.
Pulled into Sonic after Camp Verde, and just got fluid and a candy bar. Ahh... eating whatever I want, whenever I want, and it was all so legal.
Continuing on, I found a wallet with $50, Mexican national cards, and credit cards in it, off the side of the road. I immediately felt bad for the person who lost it. When I got to Jeff's in Flagstaff that night, we tracked down the employer of the person and agreed to mail him the wallet which Jeff kindly did the following morning. Good Deeds "done dirt cheap" I thought, "I will look to do a good deed everyday I'm out here" I told myself.
It stayed hot and windy until I crested onto the rim. The thought "the higher in elevation I get, the cooler it will be", didn't turn out to be true. At that point, the heavens opened up and decided to drench me, it rained for the next 20 miles. I was able to dry by the time I reached north Flagstaff and ate once more at Subway before pulling into Meri's brother's place for the night. His name is Jeff Martin and he is the LDS institute director at NAU. Had good conversation with him and his good wife Pam before heading off to sleep.
The next day's plans had changed a bit because Jeff had put me in contact with the LDS seminary teacher in Page and he enthusiastically agreed to take me in that night. I had planned on going through the Lee's Ferry/Jacob Lake way and camping off the side of the road, but sleeping in a bed in Page didn't seem so bad. I was even promised a nice dinner. I was a little nervous, I had never met Danny and Angela Ricks and I didn't know what to expect, but from the moment I met these two, I was glad I did.
The next day to Page was just as I had expected, hot and windy. The wind wasn't a direct headwind, but just about. I believe the temp was over 100, at least it felt as much. But, I plod along stopping at The Gap and Cameron for replenishment along the way. Later that day, I see a native on the reservation who was stumbling along. He looked to be drunk from his gait and my first impulse was to ride around him and not look back, probably a common reaction from most people, but I was in search of a worthy good deed victim and there didn't seem to be many possibilities out there. So, I pulled up next to him and asked him if he was okay and if he needed anything. He looked at me with desperate eyes and said "I'm dying of thirst, please help me". I hurriedly gave him a water bottle. He politely took off the top so as not to contaminate the spout, took a drink, and handed it back to me, not wanting to take too much. I was touched that he was so considerate in his state. I insisted he have more and he drank until he was full. I was worried about making it to the next stop on so little water myself but I felt I would be okay. He thanked me for saving him over and over, and I had to ride on before I was thanked to death. I felt really good about that experience.
By the time I got to the "Cut-out" as the locals call it, or as I call it "the climb up to Page" I was over-heated. I can tolerate a lot of heat abuse but I had been milking the little water I had left after the good deed episode and was now choking on my tongue. I made it up to the overlook where jewelry is sold and was looking for shade and possibly a water handout. While standing in the little shade I could find of an RV, the owner came out and handed me not one, but two ice-cold sodas, Root Beer and a Diet 7-Up. I thanked him profusely and down one in about 5 seconds. My plan was to then find a shade tree about another mile up the road and milk the other one while relaxing. Mission accomplished, found a little tree to sit under, just me, the ants and a Diet 7-up. Just 25 miles of downhill left until Page and the unknown sleepover.
Idaho hospitality awaited me at the Rick's home. Just a solid couple who opened their home to a stranger, a strange stranger no less. They made a barbecue chicken dinner and we had a great time. I was really glad to get to know them, very kind and happy people.
3 a.m. the next morning and I'm back on the road. With my light attached I headed towards Kanab and ultimately Panguitch. I left early so as to beat some of the heat and wind that had pestered me the day before. The bonus in that decision was the stars. I know I've been urbanized, but wow the stars were blazing that night, even though I felt rushed to make some distance, I had to stop for awhile to take it all in. I felt overwhelmed at my place in it all. Alone, in the middle of nowhere, standing there with my arms outstretched and feeling alive, that was one of my reasons to do this trip. I could've headed home right then and felt complete, but I do like to cycle ; )
Not much more to report on the road to Kanab, I opened the door for an older woman at the Subway so if nothing better came along that day, that would have to do for my good deed. Downed a Turkey breast and Ham foot long at you guessed it; Subway, filled the bottles, and took off for Panguitch.
You've heard the opening line for stories that go, "I was just riding along and" well this is one of those, only true. I was just riding along enjoying the scenery and doing my thing when a box blows right in front of my bike. This was no puny box as some have made the comment that i've embellished it's size increasingly since the accident, no, this was a large box, one that might've held a small water heater. The gusting winds I'd been lovingly dealing with literally picked it up and set it right in front of my wheel. I braced and hoped for the best. Turns out the killer box didn't fold or move as I plowed into it, it just took me down.
I remember the impact on my head and then nothing until I woke up and saw about ten people standing around me who had enjoyed the show from the comfort of their leather seats, and were now gawking at the aftermath (sorry, that's kinda harsh, I'm sure there was concern for my well-being). I sat up as an EMT was opening his fishing box for ice packs. The people were all talking and I must've been quite a show. I heard one woman tell another that my impact was "vicious" I don't know, I can't remember. The EMT ask me if I wanted an ambulance, I told him "no, let me check myself out first". On self-evaluation I was happy to be able to stand and not notice any fractures. I did have abrasions, swollen knees, right elbow and jaw. But after more checking, no fractures, I was good to go. Until...well, during the one mile drive with the EMT into Hatch, he started asking me some tough questions that I couldn't answer. Such as; "where did you come from" and "where are you going"? It was like waking up from surgery and having to describe it to someone, I had nothing. He wouldn't let me leave until I was able to recall some details so I called Meri and she filled me in on the trip. She also talked to the EMT and had him call my friends in Panguitch to come and pick me up.
Lynn Armstrong was kind enough to come and retrieve me and my bike to Panguitch. I was fed and was able to doctor myself into pretty reasonable shape.
The next morning my knee was able to bend enough to make cycling possible, so against Tracy and Lynn's wishes I was off to Manti. Got to Richfield and ate at Ideal Dairy, stuffed myself actually, and was back on the road. My handlebar had been broken during "the assassination attempt", and shifting was jumpy, so I finally had to stop and splint the bar with two sticks and some duct tape and fiddled with the shifting until i could use a few gears reliably. I felt like my bike, busted a little, but workable. I was starting to feel the injuries the most by Salina and thought of staying there, but it was still early and I felt I could bite off another 30 miles to make it to Manti.
Funny thing happened on the way to Manti. I was on one of the last climbs into town when a SUV pulled over in front of me. A woman gets out and approaches me, I just thought she might need some help. When she got to me she asked "are you okay"? I thought "boy, this is a bike-friendly town". She then asked "didn't you see that"? I said "no, I didn't see anything and I couldn't hear anything because I had my ipod going". She said "my Kayak broke off my roof rack and barely missed hitting you".
Okay, what are the odds of that? Plus, what are the odds a killer box gets blown up on the road in front of me at THAT exact moment? I don't know what to make of it, on the one hand I'm okay, on the other, I could've been seriously injured or killed. My brain hurts...
No harm, no foul, so in keeping with the spirit of good deeding, I helped her retrieve and load the Kayak inside her SUV. She thanked me, apologized, and invited me to the lake. Tempted, I declined graciously and went on to get a hotel room in Manti.
It was awesome to finally have some privacy and rest. I showered gingerly and walked up the street to Fred's Hamburger place. The meal was good but I goofed up by drinking the two big Diet Cokes, that tactical error kept me wide-eyed and awake late into the night.
The next day, I was feeling better, scabbing -up, and happy about the thought of finishing.
As I was approaching Mt Pleasant I saw a sign indicating that a Bike Race was taking place that day. I texted Barry Thomas and tried to find out if the Tour was in the area that day. He confirmed, and I kept an eye out for bogies. As I got into the town I saw a group of people gathered so I figured it involved the race. I wasn't looking for trouble, I was just talking to an older gentleman who was asking about my trip. When it was overheard that I was riding up to do the 300 Warrior's charity ride, a younger man with KJZZ on his shirt pointed his finger in my face and said "don't move, I'll be right back". He returned with a microphone and had his video guy film the interview. We talked for about five minutes, most of which consisted of me down-playing my effort to get up there, maybe that's why I don't believe it ever aired, not enough drama. It was cool to see Mesa local Marty Ryerson driving by in the Ride Clean team car after the Pro's went by. We gave each other a shout out in passing.
The Tour riders had gone on to Milburn and on the way back passed by me going the opposite way. It was fun to watch them go by and cheer them on.
Not much else to report about the last day, I just pressed on in solitude. Got into Provo and had another Subway sandwich before the final stretch into American Fork.
Thanks to all who helped me along the way. Also, If anybody out there ever wants to ride to Utah, let me know, I'm starting to get the hang of it...
