Adventure 31: Goodbye Utah/Hello Colorado

Many Humans Came Before

We hooked up Fric and Frac Saturday night, leaving only unhooking power and removing wheel shocks for the morning. We pulled out at seven, just before sunrise. Clearly, we said to ourselves, we should have gone up to the point for a sunrise view of the canyon. As it was we caught glimpses on our way into Moab. Sunrise is just as amazing as sunset, maybe even more so because the light increases rather than recedes. We had planned on becoming Baptist's for a Sunday, but their service didn't start until eleven. So after a really good breakfast at the EklecticCafe, we had to once again become Catholics. Oh, wait--I am Catholic. Anyway, breakfast was fabulous. I had Huevos Rancheros; Judy had Polenta and Veggies; we shared a fat cinnamon roll, and the coffee was rich. Mass was brief (exceptionally so--37 minutes), and our trip to Cortez, Colorado was uneventful. We did take an amazing 84 mile side trip to the Hoven Weep, which is a National monument dedicated by Warren Harding. It is the remains of ancestors of the Pueblo Indians who lived in the canyon somewhere around 1100 A.D. What remains is evidence of their mason homes, granaries, and worship structures. One theory is that drought drove them South; another is that war devastated them. Who knows? I do know that nature, human avarice, and subjection continue to effect the human experience. What was still is and seems it will ever be, but in the meantime in this space right here, right now, life is good, especially today. 

 

The rave reviews are accurate for this funky joint.

 Artist's wares are for sale: The tables are like glass cases in a jewelry store. Rings and things under glass, cleverly peeking up and around your huge plates of green chile smothered rancheros, urging any unwary impulse: Buy me!

 Indoor and outdoor seating. We were there by eight and the place was already hopping!

 My pictures didn't capture it, but this canyon was a mini version of those we've been viewing for the last few weeks. This one was shallow and not too steep. The Indians did their dry land farming on the hillsides behind these structures.

 Square shapes, round shapes, structures built right onto rock.

 The local artist must have lived in this boulder house, or maybe the chief?

 This cylinder sits right on the point, and looks South down the canyon.

 A cross canyon view. Crop lands in the background.

 The inside of the remains of the cylinder; they say it is a ceremonial place.

 A view from the end of the canyon; different cylindrical structures in the background.

 The San Juan Mountains in the distance.

 Just a pretty picture.

 A sense of the shallow nature of the canyon.

The masonry.

Fric and Frac's new home at the Sunset RV Park nestled in downtown Cortez, CO. Nice, clean, well run. Several long term residents.

Adventure 30: Dead Horse Point State Park/Post F

Let the Light Shine.

I woke up Saturday morning about 7:30, stretched a little and chortled, 'My, a 12-8 lead feels mighty good considering it's the last day." Judy promptly skunked me twice, tying the score, which wrinkled my brow, and forced me into a show of good sportsmanship. To soothe my chagrin, I called a timeout (During which time we drove to the Canyon Lands). Upon our return, we feasted on left over TimChee soup, and decided to alter our normal rule of the last loser deals first if it is the same day. We cut; I dealt. Sadly, for Judy, my momentum changing tactic worked. She fell just short and had to leave Utah feeling once again like Moses stranded outside the promised land. I soothed her feelings by buying her a smoothie at the park coffee shop. We held hands on the veranda of the visitor center and enjoyed a long look at the mountains and canyons. We marveled at our good fortune in this game we call life, and felt thankful for each other and our opportunities. Just before sunset, we walked to the last vista we had to visit. We arrived at the edge with the orange light, bathed ourselves in it, and trekked back in the startlingly cool purple twilight. On the trail people often ask, "Was the hike worth it?" Yes! Yes! i answer as emphatically as Meg Ryan in the diner scene during the movie, When Harry met Sally. See for yourself because here life is most certainly good, especially today.

 in minutes the light changed from orange to soft purple.

It's eerie standing so close to a potentially sudden death.

 Maybe that's why the craggily trees grip the rock with such tenacity.

 Gloriously gnarly.

 Is life mere agony? 

 Is it twisted perversion?

 Or is it a grand triumph over hardship?

 Maybe it's years of patient change?

 Or perhaps the satisfied stillness of surviving another day? 

 The day dissolves.

Silhouettes remain. Memories dim. Cameras barely catch a thing.

Adventure 29: Dead Horse Point State Park/Post E

Tandem Heaven!

After a day of rest, reading, painting, cribbing, and the obligatory rest day hike of 5.75 miles, we road thirty miles to Canyon Lands National Park. It was a great ride, but we soon realized that the best thing to do would have been to drive to the visitor center and ride the "Island in the Sky", which is about thirty miles of paved road to various view points. Instead, we enjoyed our thirty-two miler and drove back out to the park the next day for the views. By the way we've been averaging about six miles a day of walking, and this past week we rode 76 miles. It seems we walk one day, ride the next, and walk a little more in between. I've realized that if I could just sit in one spot, the light would change every fifteen minutes or so, which in turn would change my experience. The same rock looks much different at sunset than it does at noon, and every minute in between. It's all quite stunning, and here in Utah, life is good, especially today.

 

Though a great speaker, this typically fervent ranger was extolling (lamenting) the legacy of modern man. He chided: "What will they find two hundred thousand years from now? In a word: Garbage!--most likely Nike golf balls shanked into the dirt for future archeologists to decipher."

 The needles-very tall hoodoos peeking up through the canyons: eons of erosion.

 The view that-a-way.

 The view this-away. (Peek-a-boo!)

 Two hundred pound stone stairways deftly placed for the tourists wearing CROCS.

 The Hunny Bunny next to a friendly cairn.

 Okay. This is quite a wow.

 Judy's next step drops about a thousand feet.

 The rim trails are so groomed, I can walk in CROCS.

 They're not rocks--they're Japanese tourists. They are as prolific as rocks, however.

 This is a typical drop off, but from a much less nerve wracking angle.

 A very famous pumpkin petroglyph, circa 2013.

 The San Juan Mountains in the far distance, more than a hundred miles South.

 I would never tire of looking at the La Salle Mountains.

 Judy and I in front of the Mesa Arch, arguably the most famous one of all.

 The view through the Mesa Arch.

The flat mesa on the left is Dead Horse Point, which is where Frac was parked. This view is from the visitor's center at Canyon Lands.  The La Salles in the rear.

Adventure 28: Dead Horse Point State Park/Post D

All Down Hill From Here

First, the bad news. Judy won four games in a row to tie the score at 5-5. She used a series of cheating schemes such as scoring sixteenies, dozelitos, beinte quatros (or Van Kats if you're French), while I languished with mismatches, mishmashes, and often downright strangers. It was a sad morning at slick rock.  My head cleared when we drove to Moab to ride the paved trail we discovered while touring Arches National Park yesterday. It wasn't too hard, since the trail parallels the highway and was clearly visible. It runs from Moab to Hwy 313 (10 miles), and strong riders continue up the steep switchbacks to Dead Horse and Canyon Lands National Park (30 miles). We rode up hill from Moab and a little ways up Hwy 313. We're now sitting in a funky little internet cafe (Few Republicans here) right along main street of Moab, but then everything in Moab is along main street. This place attracts a few geezers like us, but mostly it is peopled with thirty somethings with fat thighs and flat stomachs. The off road riding here is world famous, but it doesn't appear to be for the faint hearted. I'm just about to throw my Vitamin D away and get my heart pumped as every day greets me with sky "azule' if my Spanish is correct. Today's high in Moab will reach in the high sixties: Perfect. For you all, enjoy the ride. Despite its vicarious nature, you're sure to realize that few routes are more perfect for a tandem bike. We reached a top speed of near forty; could have gone faster if I knew the road better. Maybe tomorrow life could be better, but I can't see how.

 Looking back a the switchbacks up into Arches National Park; right behind Judy's head.

Heading down the trail to Moab.

 Lots of off road trails along the paved path. Names like Rusty Spur, Sidewinder, and Dead Man's Gulch.

 Hwy 313 goes up, up (14%) to Dead Horse and Canyon Lands

 It's the balanced rock, but of course the point and shoot didn't capture the drama.

 Sixty-seven year old biker chick.

 More fun down than up.

 Son Steve would enjoy escaping on this off-road trail. Dual shocks needed.

 The Colorado River and Moab Canyon beyond.

 We would have ridden further on this road if it hadn't been closed. Douglissimo might have ridden right past the barrier. Maybe.

Obligatory sign shot.

The bridge across the Colorado; eventually the trail will run right through Moab. It's under construction right now. Great ride!