Day 39 - The Endless Climb, The Golden Key and The Locally Grown Feast

Day 39 was an odyssey in its own right, despite having followed The Longest Day.

I didn't really eat all of Hanksville. If i had, it still wouldn't have filled me up following that near 130 mile interplanetary expedition; it brely would have been a medium-sized three-course meal, which is what i did eat. I survived the longest day with its extreme mileage, extreme weather and extreme vistas. Crashing in room 25 at the spooky Hanksville Inn (don't be fooled by the use of "Inn" if that makes it sound nice in your book. The lobby reeked of 10-year-old eggs and nicotine. A computer from the mid-90s invited one to "serf the net" for a mere $2 per night - did that mean i could serf all night long?).

I hadn't counted on the next day being its own hyperbolic journey. I'd been so caught up in the drama of The Longest Day and my surviving it that i hadn't looked closely at the map for what was in store - an 85 mile trek (not too high comparatively) from Hanksville to Boulder (Utah, we're in, please remember, not Colorado. I wish i could have gone to BOulder CO!). Before i set off in the morning i finally looked closely at the elevation profile for the day and realized that from Hanksville to the day's summit was a 72 MILE CLIMB. Yes, that's seventy-two. No rest for the altitude-impacted weary. A few days before i had spoken to DOnny in Montrose CO gushing/complaining about the climb to Dallas Divide and how it was so darn long! and how long was that one? It was about 30 miles.

Of course there were a few shelter options before Boulder: three campsites near the summit but not quite at the summit. But i'm just not the type of person to leave a mountain unfinished. NOT because i'm some super-athlete - it's more that i couldn't imagine sleeping (in the freezing cold), packing up my tent and getting right on a hill that's a 10% grade at 7am. Plus, the over-achiever in me is wide awake on this trip, with No. 2 pencils sharpened and ready to go (in this case, maybe the comparable readiness item is a carefully lubed chain, every link icy-waxed?). I had to make it to Boulder (or Boulder Town, as the locals say. ... Ok, i've been saying it too) Town. But seriously, i just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with. It was Friday and I was meeting Nina in Tropic, UT on Saturday at some point and the further I got on Friday, the fresher i'd be for meeting the first familiar face i'd see in well over a month.


So it was to be a 72 mile climb. I must say the first 25 or 30 miles were a breeze, literally. I was lucky to have a gentle boost from the wind 9for a change!) from Hanksville into Capitol Reef National Park which, like all of the previous Utah protected areas was a visual extravaganza. The park's vistas illustrate Mother Earth's capacity to molt and transform through zillions of years of erosion. The rosy rock formations, deep canyon grooves, peculiar (yet now familiar) and thirsty-looking plant life, and the smarty-pants sign-reading (as in "No Hunting") wildlife, such as the Utah prairie dog (a not-too-cute busy rodent) and deer which bounded away from my oncoming bicycle. A few times in the last couple weeks, deer, in making their escape to safety (even though i'm calling out to them: "Don't worry! I'm nice!"), would be bounding alongside of me for a spell giving me the opportunity to feeling as though i was running with them (rather than them running away from me).

Capitol Reef (unimaginatively named so because of certain rocks looking like our nation's Capitol Building) was absolutely stunning. I think it's my fave of the parks i rode through/visited (except Bryce of course but that is in the future). I took many photos on the ascent which brought me out of the park trying desperately to recreate the perspective of "Look what i climbed" - not sure if that worked. From the park the route takes you to Torrey, a smart tourist town (with a subway i ate lunch at - predictable, i know. but the spinach!) with new-looking cedar lodges inviting you to take a dip in their indoor pool and consume "continental breakfast" in the AM. I was tired already but the worst was yet to come.

On a day like this one, i m constantly bargaining with myself when i can listen to my ipod on my phone, since it drains the batteries and won't last during a full 85 mile day. On the steepest part of the day's climb, i was in the zone listening to a break-up mix i made for Jeff about 4 years ago that still holds up nicely. I met two charming fellow cyclists, Shelly and Charles, a young couple (i think a couple) from Reno who were on their second day having started somewhere in Utah i never heard of and were on their way to Sedona, Arizona. They were really sweet and offered me carrots and strawberries. We chatted for a while, my first real conversation in days. As i was headed for BOulder Town, they alerted me to a restaurant there that used locally grown and organic produce that was supposedly great. Thinking about eating at that restaurant was motivation to get to the summit, which was very satisfying in terms of being able to see the whole day's climb (not really but it was a huge valley i was able to look down upon and click pics of).

Unfortunately my phone wsn't receiving a signal so i wasn't able to call ahead to any of the 3 places to stay listed on my Adventure Cycling map. It was getting late and cold so i put on my jacket for the descent which brought me to the edge of BOulder Town. No one was around. The first of the 3 places had a No Vacany sign. Fair enough. I called the second and got a machine (it was a hotel as well as the Johnson residence). I called the third, a "lodge" - and you know by now what that means: $$$. A German-accented woman said no rooms there: "I think all of BOulder TOwn is booked." Fuck. No camping unless i went 15 miles back up the hill (hell to the no) or another 15 miles further. Again, not happening. Sun setting. I'm wrecked and starving. What do i do now? Stealth camping was something i said i wouldn't do. I wouldnt sleep anyway for fear of a gun being thrust into my tent dangling the "no trespassing" sign i ignored.

I found myself in front of the second hotel on the list, the Johnson Family one. The front door said "Office" and "Closed" but i saw another sign. I approached. The sign said basically if we're not here take a key to a room and pay us later or in the morning. What?? And there was one magic motherfucking golden key left in the basket: Room 1. i danced a goddamn jig partnering with Whitey. I just couldn't believe my luck hadn't run out, and i wasn't going to end up bunking in a field of cow shit praying all night not to be discovered.

I showered and googled the restaurant that Charles and shelly mentioned and found it - a mere five minutes walk further down the road! MOre luck! Now when i tell you that this is the best meal i've had on this trip, please know that it wasn't just the hunger talking. It was amazing. So amazing that i can't remember the name right now. I won't list the various troughs t which i fed (kale was involved as was rhubarb and trout) - but let it suffice to say that i was nearly sick with how much i ate. This place was a pot gold at the tip of a very long rainbow that, for a while, i thought was just never going to end.

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