Today: 51.3 miles – AVG Speed 12.3MPH – Top Speed: 34.6MPH
Total: 3,854.80
I had only planned on the short trip to Hanksville today. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle for 30 or so miles, and in light of yesterdays unexpected century I thought it best to take it easy. I was on the road by 9. I had fancied an earlier alarm call, but the howling wind - which at one stage I mistook for wild, blood-thirsty creatures of the night - disturbed my questionably effective beauty sleep.
Now, I hate to bang on about this, but wow. This entire region continues to keep me enthralled. When riding, I don’t usually like to stop the momentum, but here there is no choice. It is imperative that I stop. To ignore what is in front of me would be an insult to this opportunity and to the place itself.
I was in the bowels of Glen Canyon this morning, and I began by snaking my way down to the Colorado River and, the far better named in my opinion, Dirty Devil River. The sheer magnitude of these canyons was a sight to stun the most hardened of traveller. The smooth, sloping rocks of these once battered river walls demand your attention, and they get it. After a few stops to soak up the majesty I was hit by my first steep climb, and boy was it steep (yes), but I dug in, and though I expected more to follow they never transpired. It was a gradual climb alright, but with the wind at my back I was being pushed along at a healthy pace. At this rate, I was on course to make it to Hanksville by lunchtime. Not bad considering I was doing 50 miles on a bagel.
The slow escape from the canyon was extraordinary. The red rocks left me feeling as if I had been dropped onto a vision of Mars where the sole thriving business was the Alfred McAlpine road laying company. If you have the means, please make it a priority to travel this route any way you can. It’s the Utah Scenic Byway 95. Note it down.
After exiting the canyon the landscape became more desert-like, with the land smattered by unique buttes and mesas. The final 15 miles were, in the main, downhill, and as I descended into Hanksville I thought “another fifty?” to myself.
No. I’ll pitch up, thanks. Enjoy the cold taste of a Corona and relax. Until I saw my pannier rack broken and hanging off the hinges, that was. Oh well, I found some screws. That should keep it secure until the next town. Probably. Maybe…
Total: 3,854.80
I had only planned on the short trip to Hanksville today. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle for 30 or so miles, and in light of yesterdays unexpected century I thought it best to take it easy. I was on the road by 9. I had fancied an earlier alarm call, but the howling wind - which at one stage I mistook for wild, blood-thirsty creatures of the night - disturbed my questionably effective beauty sleep.
Now, I hate to bang on about this, but wow. This entire region continues to keep me enthralled. When riding, I don’t usually like to stop the momentum, but here there is no choice. It is imperative that I stop. To ignore what is in front of me would be an insult to this opportunity and to the place itself.
I was in the bowels of Glen Canyon this morning, and I began by snaking my way down to the Colorado River and, the far better named in my opinion, Dirty Devil River. The sheer magnitude of these canyons was a sight to stun the most hardened of traveller. The smooth, sloping rocks of these once battered river walls demand your attention, and they get it. After a few stops to soak up the majesty I was hit by my first steep climb, and boy was it steep (yes), but I dug in, and though I expected more to follow they never transpired. It was a gradual climb alright, but with the wind at my back I was being pushed along at a healthy pace. At this rate, I was on course to make it to Hanksville by lunchtime. Not bad considering I was doing 50 miles on a bagel.
The slow escape from the canyon was extraordinary. The red rocks left me feeling as if I had been dropped onto a vision of Mars where the sole thriving business was the Alfred McAlpine road laying company. If you have the means, please make it a priority to travel this route any way you can. It’s the Utah Scenic Byway 95. Note it down.
After exiting the canyon the landscape became more desert-like, with the land smattered by unique buttes and mesas. The final 15 miles were, in the main, downhill, and as I descended into Hanksville I thought “another fifty?” to myself.
No. I’ll pitch up, thanks. Enjoy the cold taste of a Corona and relax. Until I saw my pannier rack broken and hanging off the hinges, that was. Oh well, I found some screws. That should keep it secure until the next town. Probably. Maybe…
Spending a penny in the aptly named Dirty Devil River after , well, spending a penny in the Dirty Devil River.
Morning view.
Tart.
The Dirty devil himself...
Lightening up.
That's sunset.
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