I'm calling this a rest day. They don't come that often when I'm on the road. Usually I don't decide on them till I happen on the perfect campsite. It's hard passing up a perfect campsite..This one fills the bill, having water nearby ( I'm guessing this stream is Last Chance Creek). Best of all, there's shelter in the form of a large overhanging rock with a flat wide floor of sand underneath and plenty of headroom, even room for a tent. Beats last nights shelter by a mile, which was also under a sandstone overhang but was cramped and dusty and needed considerable grading to produce a narrow sleeping platform. It was the kind of spot you might hope to find in an emergency, but ard to imagine choosing it during better conditions. Good shelter is on my mind lately.
I'm riding the Smokey Mountain road through the near wilderness of the Grand Staircase - Escalante National Monument ,that links Big Water near Glen Canyon Dam with the town of Escalante on Utah's route 12. It's 78 miles long, but you can't measure it by the usual standards of road since it is a four wheel drive unpaved road with many ultra steep sections ,rough sections, sandy sections ,and muddy stream crossings. Today I made four miles before calling it quits. There was almost no riding ,just a whole lot of pushing, mud caking around the wheels and on my boots. The road was washed out . It was nearly entirely mud, but here and there some sand or rock which made for easier pushing and sometimes even a little riding.
My early stop makes sense if it rains again this afternoon. It makes even more sense if it doesn't. Every moment it's not raining the road is drying out. If the drying continues I may be riding tomorrow instead of pushing.
I was about at the half way point when yesterday's deluge hit. It began with hail mixed with rain. The hailstorm lasted longer than usual. It wasn't just a minute or two long, but continued for twenty minutes at least, the hail stones growing larger as they rained down ,reaching marble sized, bouncing crazily ,knee high, waist high, and looking like snow where they landed. Lightning put on an impressive show. A long second might pass between flash and crash, no longer. In a few moments the quitest place in the whole world had become it's noisiest and most chaotic.
I parked the bike next to a juniper at the side of the road and looked for overhanging rock to wait out the downpour. There was a small rock overhang at the top of a cliff 20 feet above a wash where I attempted to wait out the storm. From this cubbyhole I watched as the stream below increased in size and speed and grew sets of standing waves.. Adding to it's fury was a growing rush of water beside me as it hurtled over the cliff. I was at the brink of a fast forming waterfall. As it grew so did its roar. I've heard all sorts of sounds from falling water but never anything like this. As it built strength it's base notes became louder. Have you ever heard the woofer from a passing vehicle's speakers pound so loud that you wondered how anyone inside kept their hearing? Your teath's fillings vibrate, your ears begin to bleed, you can't wait for them to.move on. It sounded like that, only worse. Eventually the intensity of that cacophony ,along with the possibility of the waterfall blocking the only escape route drove me from this hole and back into the rain to look for my bicycle. I left it here somewhere, but where was it? All the most likely looking trees beside the road now had fast moving little rivers at their bases, tributaries of the waterfall I had been sitting beside. Panic set in. What if my bicycle and everything on it that I needed to survive had been swept away in the flood? I ran around a bend in the road and with great relief found it was there, untouched by the maelstrom.
For all my sudden relief I wasn't out of the woods yet. I needed to get warm ,and dry ,and fed, and out of the still pouring rain. There was little chance of pitching a tent. Where the ground wasn't stone it was quagmire. I headed back up the road to check out an expanse of slickrock ( smooth sandstone). If I could find a good cliffline I might come across some overhanging capstone and a dry place to change and eat and sleep underneath. What would have happened if I hadn't found what I was looking for ? I'd rather not think about it.
Yesterday I saw only one jeep pass by. That was long before the storm hit. Today there will be none. The road has probably been closed. Until it's dry again I'll have all this to myself. The storm has brought me silence and solitude, rare commodities today. I think I got them at a good price.
I'm riding the Smokey Mountain road through the near wilderness of the Grand Staircase - Escalante National Monument ,that links Big Water near Glen Canyon Dam with the town of Escalante on Utah's route 12. It's 78 miles long, but you can't measure it by the usual standards of road since it is a four wheel drive unpaved road with many ultra steep sections ,rough sections, sandy sections ,and muddy stream crossings. Today I made four miles before calling it quits. There was almost no riding ,just a whole lot of pushing, mud caking around the wheels and on my boots. The road was washed out . It was nearly entirely mud, but here and there some sand or rock which made for easier pushing and sometimes even a little riding.
My early stop makes sense if it rains again this afternoon. It makes even more sense if it doesn't. Every moment it's not raining the road is drying out. If the drying continues I may be riding tomorrow instead of pushing.
I was about at the half way point when yesterday's deluge hit. It began with hail mixed with rain. The hailstorm lasted longer than usual. It wasn't just a minute or two long, but continued for twenty minutes at least, the hail stones growing larger as they rained down ,reaching marble sized, bouncing crazily ,knee high, waist high, and looking like snow where they landed. Lightning put on an impressive show. A long second might pass between flash and crash, no longer. In a few moments the quitest place in the whole world had become it's noisiest and most chaotic.
I parked the bike next to a juniper at the side of the road and looked for overhanging rock to wait out the downpour. There was a small rock overhang at the top of a cliff 20 feet above a wash where I attempted to wait out the storm. From this cubbyhole I watched as the stream below increased in size and speed and grew sets of standing waves.. Adding to it's fury was a growing rush of water beside me as it hurtled over the cliff. I was at the brink of a fast forming waterfall. As it grew so did its roar. I've heard all sorts of sounds from falling water but never anything like this. As it built strength it's base notes became louder. Have you ever heard the woofer from a passing vehicle's speakers pound so loud that you wondered how anyone inside kept their hearing? Your teath's fillings vibrate, your ears begin to bleed, you can't wait for them to.move on. It sounded like that, only worse. Eventually the intensity of that cacophony ,along with the possibility of the waterfall blocking the only escape route drove me from this hole and back into the rain to look for my bicycle. I left it here somewhere, but where was it? All the most likely looking trees beside the road now had fast moving little rivers at their bases, tributaries of the waterfall I had been sitting beside. Panic set in. What if my bicycle and everything on it that I needed to survive had been swept away in the flood? I ran around a bend in the road and with great relief found it was there, untouched by the maelstrom.
For all my sudden relief I wasn't out of the woods yet. I needed to get warm ,and dry ,and fed, and out of the still pouring rain. There was little chance of pitching a tent. Where the ground wasn't stone it was quagmire. I headed back up the road to check out an expanse of slickrock ( smooth sandstone). If I could find a good cliffline I might come across some overhanging capstone and a dry place to change and eat and sleep underneath. What would have happened if I hadn't found what I was looking for ? I'd rather not think about it.
Yesterday I saw only one jeep pass by. That was long before the storm hit. Today there will be none. The road has probably been closed. Until it's dry again I'll have all this to myself. The storm has brought me silence and solitude, rare commodities today. I think I got them at a good price.
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