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November 6th 2008

Published: November 6th 2008

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View from Twin Points

Heading south from St. George it wasn’t long before I was on my own, on a network of dusty dirt roads. The most striking thing about the landscape was the amount of grazing that goes on. The land does not appear that it would support much life at all, but horses and cattle must love that brushy stuff. I thought they ate more grass, but again, what the hell do I know.

I think that day dropping my bike outside of Great Basin was great preparation for this leg of my trip. First, I dropped a lot of weight off the bike. Well as much as I could considering I needed to bring in 32 pounds of water(4 gallons), which was enough for 3 days plus a 1 gallon margin for error. I tore into that margin right away when one of my water bottles sprung a leak and I lost half of it. Anyway, the other key adjustment I made was removing the hemorrhoid cushion from my saddle(actually, it is an Airhawk saddle cushion and it’s very nice) bringing my stubby legs and feet a good 2, maybe even 3 inches closer to the ground. If you remember me

Brave on the cliffs

not having any ground to touch when I put my right foot down when I got caught in sage brush last time I dropped the bike, you’ll understand how much that helped. It also dropped my center of gravity more than I had considered, and that was an unexpected benefit.

This reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to mention about motorcycling. Unlike driving, when taking your foot off the gas is almost always a prudent move in signs of trouble, doing that when riding will most likely exasperate the situation. Rolling, or at least maintaining your throttle, will increase your traction. So, I suppose that has taken some time to beat into my head, but on this trip I put it into practice a lot. Also, I have to mention how impressive my bike is off road, even with tires that are less than ideal for the task. The bike did things I was surprised it could do and tried to do other things it was excited to do, but I was beyond my limits. It is a torquey little bastard and has never seen a boulder it didn’t think it could climb. There was this one time

More at Twin Points

it tried to jump a rock that was 2 feet tall. I was like, “Easy big fella, easy.” Either way my riding has improved noticeably. I pulled out of at least 3 hairy spots that would have tossed me for sure even a week or 2 ago.

It was a great ride out to Twin Points even though the last 13 miles took about 2 hours of some intense riding. It was a lot of fun. It was a pretty spot where I spent about an hour enjoying some lunch and the solitude, but my bike kept looking at me saying, “Dude, there’s a lot more track out here let’s go kill it.” I agreed and it was time to head to Tuweep.

There was a lot more flat land between those 2 points with one crazy mountain pass along the way. It might have been 90 miles, but it took me all afternoon to get there. I made it to Tuweep as the sun was setting and it was just plain spectacular. Having hiked down all but the last 1,500 feet or so of the Grand Canyon from the South Rim before, I could tell how deep

I thought this was bad...

into the canyon I already was.

I was just beside myself for the last 10 miles of the track down to the campground by the rim. It was getting late, and I had to be tired, but it was just spectacular. I was so stoked. Since I planned on spending 2 nights there I was thinking about how sweet it was going to be to go hiking around the next day, how nice it would be to set up camp and not break it down the next morning, how much fun the ride in was. I was famished and thinking about beef stroganoff. I was thinking about how I could possibly explain this to all of you. There were a lot of things I was thinking about, but guess what I wasn’t thinking about? Yup, the road. I took an awful angle into an uphill curve and quickly came across the most gnarly section of track I have seen the whole trip. I tried to recover, but I was pretty much stuck with the line I negligently chose up against the side of the road. It was a battle of basalt and loose soft dust the consistency of baby

Attempt at scale

powder, a very nasty combination. I tried to get away from the edge, but it was fruitless. I was caught, and as I got bounced around got my foot caught between a big rock and my bike. “Crack, crack, crack.”

“Oh no,” I’m thinking. Now I’ve done it. Well, I didn’t hear a snap or a pop. That’s good, but my ankle is definitely unnaturally bent. It is definitely twisted out which they say is more likely a break as opposed to in, which is usually a sprain. It hurts, but it doesn’t feel broken. Am I in shock? Shit, I hope not, that would be so stupid.

I pried my leg out nice and easy and put some weight on it. Felt okay. Not great, but I didn’t break it. So sweet. Turns out I barely even strained it. It swelled a bit, and I thought it might knock down my hiking for a couple of days, but do you think I let it slow me down? Y’all should know better by now. Anyway, don’t they say if your gonna make an omelet you have to break a few legs? Oh, eggs, that makes sense. Legs is

There are a few active ranches scattered about.

a Jersey omelet. At least I didn’t go and break my leg over it.

The next day my ankle was a little stiff, but when I found out there was a trail down to the Colorado River I was stoked. At that trailhead there were a ton of foreboding messages both from the Park Service and in the hikers log. I figured I would see how it looked, and that if I really needed rope protection it would be time to head back. The trail turned out to be fairly rugged. I had to stop and read the terrain often to keep on trail. It also made me want to amend my definition of scree to loose rock. There were a couple of small slides I started that scooted 50-pound rocks down the canyon. There was also a lot of rock scrambling that bordered on bouldering. Scrambling is when your hiking and you need to start getting your hands involved to do some light climbing. Bouldering is using climbing techniques on boulders without a rope. I was never that exposed, maybe a 3 or 4 foot drop at most, but I had to be very selective about my hand

Gates to open and close along the way

and foot placement. There were big rocks that looked stable, but that could be pulled out of the other layers of rock with your hand. One time I felt like Wile E. Coyote. I was hugging the wall of a big wash when I grabbed a rock and ripped it free. It felt like I paused with it in my hand for a moment before I slid a good 5 or 6 feet down the wash. A couple of scrapes, but no big deal. Later that night I was reading the Grand Canyon information map and saw that roadrunners live in the area. I shit you not, you can’t make that stuff up. Either way, finding my way down to the Colorado and soaking my ankle in its cool waters was simply sublime. It might just be my favorite moment of the trip so far.

My plan had been to stay off the bike that day, but after I walked 40-minutes from the campground and wasn’t halfway to the lava flow trail I doubled back and got on the bike. It was nice to ride on the dirt unloaded with camp set up. I figure I left at least

Horses grazing.

There are more cows than horses.

40-pounds at the campsite and it made a huge difference. After the hike, as I was heading back to camp I was honestly a little concerned going back up the spot where I almost did myself in the day before. I stopped at the bottom of the hill when I got to it that time and took a second to choose my line. Let me tell you, that was one nasty spot. Even with a conservative approach it still almost bounced me off the road. I think I pulled a wheelie over the last boulder and I assure you there was no one there to impress. I actually felt better about almost breaking my leg the day before. That spot was just that gnarly.

Breaking camp the next morning I was feeling pretty confident about the ride out having already conquered 200 miles of rugged dirt track. I was impressed how well my tires were handling considering that the Tourance Metzlers are really only designed for some part-time light duty off-road. They were kicking some ass. The first 13 miles out of Tuweep was what they call unimproved road. Once I got past that it felt like I was

Lounging at Tuweep

home free, 40 miles to actual macadam. Wrong again. About a quarter mile up the road I came quickly upon my least favorite hazard next to snow. The entire section of road was 15 inches deep of that dusty stuff the consistency of baby powder with rocks and ruts underneath. I tried downshifting and breaking as much as I could, but there wasn’t enough room. I hit it at about 20 mph, roughly twice as fast as I would have preferred. It was hopeless. My front tire dug in one way, my rear another and the bike and I went down again. I was covered in dirt. This time the bike didn’t fare so well either. I looked back and my right box was upside down and backwards. The box rack was totaled. In all it took me about an hour and half to piece and bungee cord it back together. What are you gonna do? I didn’t figure I would make it out without some sort of ding. You just get up and keep going, albeit a bit more timid. Then about 25 miles from the highway I noticed that the bike was handling funny. I peaked over my

Lava Flow Trailhead

windshield and the front end looked good. So, I stopped to look at the rear.

I finally caught a flat. On a road where you are warned to take 2 spares it almost seemed inevitable, but I was past most of the obstacles that should have given me those troubles. Jagged rocks, pinch points, and all things I picked up a nail. Can you believe it? I thought it was just plain hilarious. Besides I was curious about taking the rear wheel off, and curious I would be know more. What better place to learn than all by myself in the middle of a dusty desert? I had one hell of a time trying to break the bead of the tire without one of those nifty machines and took a gamble at trying to just plugging the whole the nail left. It shouldn’t really work since the tires have tubes in them due to the spoked rims, but for some reason it held air well enough to get me to a service station. It took a little convincing to get the guy to break the bead for me, but then it was all good.

I doubled back to

Along the way.

resupply and then went to the North rim. On the way in I got hit with freezing rain and hail. I was too disgusted to even take a picture. I was going to camp there a second night but was deterred when 0 degree wind chills were forecasted. The hike into the Canyon from the Rim was sweet, but it couldn’t compare to the majesty of Tuweep. Today I am heading to Flagstaff as a stopover on my way to Albuquerque. In Albuquerque my new rack will meet me. Once I get that dialed in it will be time loose this elevation behind and head east. I know my East Coast people miss me. I’m coming. Oh yeah, the meeting people thing has really started taking off. I have had one hell of an awesome morning here in Kanab. Good people.

Man, I almost forgot. “Warning 6 minutes!” That is what the sticker facing me on my windshield reads. Jan put it there and I found no reason to remove it. It’s a simple reminder that most accidents occur within in 6 minutes leaving from, or arriving at your destination. It’s a good reminder to keep my head in