Part 1: Bicycling through the Land of the Sleeping Rainbows

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 1: Beginning the long ride

In all of the 50 states of America, Utah stands out as the most enthralling geological wonder of the world.  Desolation beauty.   Barren land.  Dinosaur stomping grounds.  Inland oceans.  Swirling rocks.  Multi-layered-cake mountains.  North rim of the Grand Canyon. 

Can you imagine riding through the Valley of the Gods?  The Escalante Staircase? Capitol Reef?  Bryce?  Zion’s majestic swirling rocks? 

No?  Okay, then pitch the office routine.  Grab your touring bicycle; lash on your tent, sleeping bag, stove and air mattress.  Buy a map, find a friend or two—and saddle up. You’re about to ride into the “Land of the Sleeping Rainbows.”

A guy wrote a story in a cycling magazine a few years ago who tried to cope with being alone with a broken marriage when he found out that his wife had been unfaithful. His mother suggested that he get therapy to help him through the divorce, but he had found that cycling helped him cope so he wanted to buy a new bike. The closing statement in the article was something like this: “…I decided to tell my mother that I had found a therapist who was willing see me any day of the week at any hour  for as long as it took for a one time flat payment of $1600. His name was Trek.”

Moral of the story:  ride your bicycle and all your troubles slide into your rearview mirror and quickly out of your mind. 

My friend Bob and I threw our packs onto our bikes in Vernal, Utah the first week of October, 2012.  This tour started near Dinosaur National Monument where the big T-Rex’s of North America once scavenged the region for any critter made of muscle and blood.  Of course, we would make tasty morsels if those big guys still hunted the land.  No chance to outrun them on our bikes!

“You got enough food for a few days?” Bob asked.

“Rice and beans along with fruits, energy bars and trail mix,” I said.  “We need to stock up on lots of water, too.”

“Got it all covered,” Bob said. “Let’s head to Duchene and then, south to the Grand Canyon.  Whatever happens in-between, we can chalk it up to fun and chance.”

We headed west on Route 40 along Vernal’s Main Street with ample flower basins exploding with red, white and purple petunia flowers.    Once out of town, we cranked up a 1,000 foot pass with colorful rock mountains lining the horizon.  Lots of tans, browns, topaz and white rock layered into the peaks alongside of us.  We pedaled through violent geological uplifts.

All of it felt the hand of rain, snow and ice erosion.  One gray, red, yellow and tan mountain featured enormous erosion channels that created a tapestry of mosaic beauty over the desert before us.

“Beautiful landscape,” Bob said.

“It’s what we came for,” I said.

We pedaled 15 miles from Vernal to the top of a long pull at the end of the day. We coasted down to Route 88 south. We followed it to a dirt road and pulled onto the gravel.  No problem, Bob rode a Long Haul Trucker by Surly. I pedaled my 22 year old Franklin Frame mountain expedition touring bike.  Hard as steel and tough as a tank.  Named him “Condor” for the times we traveled over the Andes in the flight patterns of condors at 16,000 feet.  Bob named his bike “Surly” to match Bob’s surly resolve to conquer high mountain passes and dance with eagles.   We felt like two hardened old buzzards ready to win one for the Gipper or was that to stay ahead of the Grim Reaper?

We found the perfect camp site out in the middle of nowhere.  We pitched camp on some desert weeds.  If we were younger, we might have…well, forget that thought.  After pitching our tents, we hiked across a wash to discover a shadow cave.  Along the way, we saw a jack rabbit hopping through the rocks. Back at camp, out came the burner and hot chocolate along with rice and beans.  We feasted on steaming hot dinners.

The sun set over the ridge to our west while we toasted each other with the hot chocolate.  Knowing that the temperature would drop to below freezing at 5,000 feet in October, we “rugged up” before crawling into our sleeping bags.  A day well spent.

“Gees, I froze my butt off,” I said next morning. “My rear end touched the edge of the bag where I felt the cold air attacking both buns.  Then, my hands got cold. Then, my toes took a beating.  I tried to curl my toes into each other, but it didn’t work.  Then, at 4:00 a.m., I had to unzip the tent to go outside for a bathroom break.  I jumped back into the tent colder than a well-digger’s ass.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Bob said. “I had my little battery powered heater on all night and slept like a baby.  You should try one of these little gizmos.”

“Now you tell me,” I said. “Let’s cook up some hot oatmeal and get moving.”

Edward Abbey talking about cycling: “Doctor Sarvis, laboring on his bicycle up the long grade of Ninth South toward his home on 23rd East, was not unaware of the pressure of the traffic accumulating in his rear, the clamor of horns pounded by impatient fists, the motorized hatred fermenting at his back. But he thought, “Screw ‘em”. Let ‘em wait. Let ‘em fester. Let ‘em walk. Let ‘em ride a bike like me, would do me and them and everybody a world of good. Cleanse our city’s air, reinvigorate the blood, tone up the muscles, strengthen the heart, burn up that surplus fat, stave off arteriosclerosis, cut down on bypass operations, eliminate transplants, lower the cholesterol count, and prolong lives. Yes and reduce oil consumption, slow down the waste of steel and rubber and copper and glass, free human labor and engineering skills for important work — anything bad for the auto industry and bad for the oil industry is bound to be good for America, good for human beings, good for the land.”

Moments later, we pedaled down the road into a warm, sunny and beautiful day.

Part 2: Heading south along an amazing river valley toward the “Land of the Sleeping Rainbows”

##

Frosty Wooldridge has bicycled across six continents – from the Arctic to the South Pole – as well as eight times across the USA, coast to coast and border to border. In 2005, he bicycled from the Arctic Circle, Norway to Athens, Greece. In 2012, he bicycled coast to coast across America.  His latest book is: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World by Frosty Wooldridge, copies at 1 888 280 7715/ Motivational program: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World by Frosty Wooldridge, click:

www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com