Bicycle adventure through autumn splendor 2013

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 1: Dinosaurs, magnificent mountains, desert sunset
 
The boundless State of Utah features compelling landscapes replete with natural arches, balancing rocks, unique land bridges, deep canyons and mesmerizing mountain peaks.
 
Additionally, when the sun sets in the west, Utah’s skies light up with horsetail clouds swishing across eternally golden, silver, blue and crimson skies.
 
“Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
 
When autumn creeps across Utah’s unique terrain, another phenomenon bursts into multiple glory: autumn leaf changes.  Touring cyclists gather their iron steeds to ride through that autumn splendor.
 
My lifelong friend David and I wrenched our bicycles together in Dinosaur, Colorado on Route 40, located on the northwest corner of the Rocky Mountain State. We packed our food, water, tents, sleeping bags, air mattresses and cooking gear onto our bikes.
 
“You ready for a great ride David?” I asked.

“Born to dance, ready to ride and can’t help but glide down this amazing highway,” said David.
 
“Let’s do it,” I said.
 
Quickly, we slipped our feet into the straps, pressed the pedals and moved the bikes west on Route 40 into the land of dinosaurs.  We stopped at the edge of town to take a shot of us in front of a stegosaurus from 65 million years ago.  He seemed busy feeding his vegetarian needs.

(Frosty and David stopping to visit with a 65 million year old stegosaurus along the highway. They met with many different dinosaurs along their ancient route.  A story of a T-Rex attacking David will be told later in the series.)
 
Within a few miles, we pedaled up on the Utah state line with a huge sign that read, “Life elevated.”  We traveled at over 5,000 feet in altitude.  Ahead of us, vast semi-arid desert featured sagebrush, few trees and layered rock mountains.
 
“Let’s stop and take pictures and some video,” I said to David.
 

(Frosty and David standing below the Utah welcome sign ready to pedal like crazy if a T-Rex attacks.)
 
 

(After taking opening photos on the Utah state line, David ran over a metal wire that punctured his tire.  He fixed it in 20 minutes and off we sped into the land of sleeping dinosaurs.)
 
After David fixed his flat tire, we pedaled into a cool, crisp breeze with beautiful swirling cake batter multi-colored mountains to our right.  To our left, an entirely different set of almost wave-like mesas with multiple-sedimentation layers flowed eastward.  It created a cut-away  to a view of thousands of years of time.  This area experienced 29 incursions and recessions of oceans to create the various curling, swirling and layered mountains replete with endless colors—bronze, yellow, purple, red, brown tan and gray.   Coupled with gray-white clouds and touched with streaks of blue sky, we rode into a cornucopia of ephemeral-transformational beauty.
 
We watched a red-tailed hawk take flight when we surprised him on his fence post perch.  That’s the cool thing about bicycle touring: silent stealth into the natural world.  They don’t hear us coming; they think we’re one of them; we get to see incredible natural works of nature. Are touring cyclists blessed or what!
 
The further west we pedaled, the more barren the terrain. True desert features sand like the Sahara in Africa or the Atacama of Chile.  We pedaled through semi-arid desert filled with sagebrush, piñon and juniper trees.  They somehow survive 110-degree summer heat.

(David standing at Musket Shot Springs where two clear springs bubble out of the desert.)
 
We stopped at a rest area featuring Musket Shot Springs discovered in 1776. Priest Frey Velez de Dominique del Escalante led fellow priests on a journey to convert the wild savages who inhabited the land.  I never could figure out why religious folks want to change everyone to their gods when everyone already enjoys their own gods.  The aborigines of North America lived well with the Great Spirit in charge.  Heck, no government, no taxes, no polluted air or water, and no gridlock.
 
While camping at the springs, Escalante said, “We came up to two sparkling fresh springs out here in the desert only a musket shot apart. Never have I seen such wonder in the middle of such scalding heat. We refreshed our horses-mules and filled our water vessels.”
 
David and I met two couples who marveled at our bicycle journey, “Good luck to you,” they said.
 
We shot more video of the area and moved westward.  We pedaled over rolling terrain until we reached a huge gray mountain with an abyss that split it open exposing giant canyons.  A sign said, “This is what happened to me and I am here to show you what three million years of upheaval and erosion did to my body.”

(Riding through Utah’s desert country with amazing rock formations, endless changes in the sky and something unique around each bend in the road. Even flat tires are fun to fix.)
 
We discovered a church park off the road with picnic tables, toilets, water and tree-covered shade.    We pitched our tents, rolled out our air mattresses and sleeping bags.  As the temperatures dropped, we cooked up some hot chocolate along with rice and beans.   
 
We ate dinner while watching the sun go down.
 
“Not a bad place to camp,” said David.  “Let’s name it Camp Church.”
 
“Sounds good,” I said, tipping a bit of hot, steaming chocolate drink into my mouth.
 
“Life is good,” said David.
 
“Indeed it is,” I said.

In my journal I wrote: Upon the sun setting over ancient desert rocks, pale stars slide into their twinkling corners of a gathering ink-black sky.  Leaves whisper at the end of the day in hushed appreciation for their moments of sunshine.  All becomes still, shadowy and melodious. A few minutes punctuate the growing power of the night over the day. Not yet a darkened world, my mind grows infinitely clearer while the sun’s energy boils into the horizon.  Good night sweet day.

(David astride his bike.)

 
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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.  In 2013, he bicycled 2,500 miles, climbed 150,000 vertical feet and crossed 19 passes from Mexico to Canada on the Continental Divide. He presents “The Coming Population Crisis facing America: what to do about it.”  www.frostywooldridge.com.  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
Live well, laugh often, celebrate daily and enjoy the ride,
Frosty Wooldridge
Golden, Colorado
www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com
6 Continent world bicycle traveler
 
   
 
Order these unique cards today: http://www.howtolivealifeofadventure.com/
                         
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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