I couldn�t decide what to do today because although I wasn�t sore anymore, I didn�t have any energy, and I didn�t know what to do about that. I ate two bananas. I drank a grape cranberry juice. I devoured an egg and cheese croissant and a cinnamon roll. And I still had no energy.
So first I tried Kane Creek Road. In my car, of course. A new place I�d never been in Moab, it was spectacular and awe-inspiring. I was considering going back to Burger King, parking the car and then riding out as far as the pavement would take me, but there was too much traffic for my personal taste. I just don�t have the experience to tangle with cars on narrow roads. Or maybe I do have experience� my accident on August 15, 2001, was more than enough experience. Safe to say I chickened out.
When I got done with that, kind of longing to be able to do some real four-wheeling, but duty bound to ride my bike, I decided to do Gemini Bridges. I thought it would help me get back into finish mode on my book.
The trail was tougher than I thought it would be. Much more climbing than I realized. When I first arrived at the trailhead, there were two other cars in the parking lot. At the end of my ride, there were about a hundred cars, vans, buses, adventure �groups,� and bikers who�d made their way to the trailhead via the old Moab highway, which I�d considered taking to wherever I went before I woke up this morning.
The initial climb seemed deadly. Not dangerous. Just humbling. If I couldn�t handle this little hill, how in the world would I possibly scale four mountain passes in seven days?
I had to stop three times to breathe and to rest my legs. Man, it was hard climbing. Mostly because the road was rocky washboards. The plethora of four-wheelers and ATVs didn�t help much. One motorcyclist actually stopped after passing me to apologize for stirring up so much dust. I thought that was very, extremely sweet. Can I have your phone number???
Another speed inhibitor, no, make that MOTION inhibitor, was the predictable wind. But stop and think for a moment� Just how did all these beautiful arches form??? Wind, my friend, wind. Without the artwork of the wind, this place would be a lump of sand. So, ride on.
After the treacherous climb was a decent descent. Along the flats, before the Gooney Bird, which I knew to watch for as the halfway mark, I breathed a sigh of relief that I had made it that far, and the trail wasn�t THAT hard. I wasn�t looking forward to the ride out, that big hill down. I was afraid I�d end up walking the whole thing because it was just too steep to descend with a camera. Combined with my fear of heights�
Then I hit sand for the first time. I made it halfway through before my forward momentum gave way to the quicksand. The next sand trap was killer. The hill beyond the Gold Bar junction was murder. Steep. Soft. Sand. No traction. I walked almost the entire way up this baby. I also got passed by six more four-wheelers. Some of them weren�t in four before they hit that hill. They all had to stop and engage to get up the hill. That�s how mean, no make that BRUTAL, this hill was. I could have done without this hill. But then, I wouldn�t be able to say I�d tried and failed. Ha ha!
Beyond the sand hill, the road was still very sandy, and I had to drop down to my lowest middle gears. I thought that even though this trail isn�t altitude training, it has got to be good for my legs because I could really feel it, and I�ve never had to go that far in such a low gear before.
In one of the sand traps, I tried to avoid a big rock, but sand corrupts your steering. I missed and hit it the rock head on. I did the classic groin slam, and my right shin hit my pedal. Bruise and scratch number one on the right leg. When I reached the end of the trail, I found myself amidst an ATV convention. They were crawling all over the place, probably having just had their lunch, and the buzz was quite annoying. I wished I could turn the decibel level down a couple of notches.
I saw a girl on a bike alone up above all the ATVs, patiently watching and waiting. I thought I�d make my way up there to avoid the onslaught. But my quick escape techniques aren�t perfected. An ATV came out of the bushes right behind me and stopped as soon as he realized I was on the trail ahead of him. I was trying desperately to get out of the way, and I ended up dumping my bike. Bruises number two and three on the sore knee. He apologized and said he wasn�t trying to go the way I was going as I slowly moved my bike out of the path. So I moved my bike back onto the path and quickly walked it up the hill, only to have him ride right behind me the entire time, then whip around yet another bush and tear off into the sand. Leaving a cloud of dust for me to eat in the process.
After the ATVs left, I made my way down to where they had been. Fortunately, that was the location of the Bridges; otherwise, I might not have found them. I really didn�t know where to look.
In my excitement at seeing and photographing the Bridges (and staring in awe at all the permanent anchors I found in the rock as I hiked along), I forgot to look for Merrimac and Monitor. There�s supposed to be an awesome view of the two bluffs from the top of Gemini Bridges. I was to captivated by the gorgeous views of the La Sal range. I just can�t pull my eyes away from the red rock when snow-covered mountains poke out of the background.
When I got back to THE sand hill, I walked my bike back down, and then I boarded and began cruising through the sandbar at the Goldbar junction. I twisted the front wheel in one minor sand trap and spun off the bike to avoid wrecking tangled up in it. Bruise number four on the same shin.
I stopped to shoot the Gooney Bird, and I shot some canyon walls. Then I hit the climb out. Oh, I dreaded it. But it wasn�t as bad as the uphill on the other side had been. More gradual or something. Maybe my legs were just doing a little better.
I got passed by a guy. As usual. Then I had to stop and walk across a rocky section. I got passed by a girl, and there was someone else behind her walking up their bike. I got back on my bike and started pedaling again. I went as far as my lungs could take, and then I stopped to walk my bike just a bit to catch some air. The person behind me also walking their bike was A GUY!!! A guy, not old, not pot-bellied, just a regular, skinny guy � walking his bike!!! That gave me super motivation!
I got back on my bike, and I made it up the rest of the way without having to get off my bike even once. My goodness, what a little push of adrenaline will do for you!
At the top of the hill, I got blasted by another blasted headwind!!! How does that do that! It was supposed to be tailwind on the return trip!
Then began the real challenge. It�s about a mile of pretty steep road to the bottom. I was tired and sunburned and didn�t want to walk all the way down. Not in bike shoes. They still have some breaking in to do before they quit leaving blisters on my ankles and little toes.
So I began bouncing, or plunging, take your pick. I know not to ride my brakes. Just feather. I was trying. I was really trying. But the road was too, too steep. I would either burn up my brakes or lose my balance. I didn�t want to cry. The trail was too crowded. Not at the moment, but continuously before and after that sad realization.
Two mature guys passed me when I came to a hard braking stop just in time to avoid a wicked rockbed. One of the guys told me to stand on my pedals, keeping my feet level, and use my legs for shock absorbers instead of my rump.
Um, I wasn�t worried about bumps. I was worried about joining the �Over the Bar Scar Club.� Unwillingly.
I was so glad when I finally made it to the bottom. There I found a group of riders about to be led up the same trail by a professional guide service. They had about 30 people of varying ages and abilities, and they were all going up together.
I can see hiring a guide for a river float on a raft. But on a bike???
After a refreshing shower and a change of attire, I returned to Arches National Park to take pictures. I ended up doing quite a bit of hiking and rock climbing in Garden of Eden and near the Windows. Got in a couple of solid class four moves, and one amazing class five move. A cinch when the drop is only 12 to 15 feet�
As a result, my shots aren�t typical. I won�t be publishing a book of drive-by shots anytime soon.
I returned to Moab, an hour before sunset, planning to do Zax for dinner again. My mouth was watering in anticipation.
Little did I know the parade of old cars that had been drawing lines along Main Street on my way TO Arches three hours earlier had not started yet, and now the madhouse was even madder. The line at Zax was 20 deep out the door. So I kept right on going. The line at every restaurant was equally as long. I kept driving. Slowly. Traffic. Aaaargh! I finally stopped at a convenience store just outside the city limits and bought three yucky egg rolls and a bag of chips. I haven�t opened the chips yet. That�s how unappetizing the egg rolls were.
Doggone it! I could have stayed at Arches and shot the sunset. But then I guess I�d be developing six rolls of film instead of five, and I would have exhausted my monthly film budget before the month�s end. Hurry up and end, April!
