As we pushed on into the wind for the last 15 miles uphill to Bryce Canyon, Anna spots another cyclist riding up behind us. 'Could it be Wayne?', we spot the beard, the cap and the dark bags, 'it is!'. He had been pushing hard to catch us on the hill, so Anna spun around to meet him. We had first met Wayne just out of Jackson WY in Grand Teton NP from where he had headed to the mountain passes of Colorado. Two days earlier Adrian (our Swiss friend) had told us of a cyclist coming over Boulder mountain like we had, but a day later, in snow flurries, with a big beard and we knew then it could well be Wayne, and it was. He had previously been cycling with his Swiss girlfriend who unfortunately had to return home to work after Jackson, so he had been cycling alone and was keen to join us to Bryce.
Bryce Canyon is situated above 8,000 feet high up on a plateau, snow covered some of the ground around the campground under the Ponderosa pines and the temperature dropped well below freezing at night. The main features at Bryce are sandstone hoodoos, delicate pink, orange and red pillars of rock, windows, fins and slot canyons that fill a natural amphitheatre. With names like 'Thor's Hammer',' the Hunter',' the Queens Garden' and 'Fairyland Point' you can appreciate the imagery this place creates. We hiked through slot canyons and under balanced hoodoos and carved walls along the Najavo trail and Queens Garden trail, looking up in awe at the gravity defying features carved by water and ice into the sandstone. The exposed tops of the cliffs are also home to Bristlecone pines, thought to be the oldest living trees on earth, gnarled and slightly scraggly looking, a few twisted branches, needles close to the branches, yet majestic trees eeking out an existence on these windswept hills of eroding rock. At night the moon was full so we took a short walk out from behind our camp and experienced a haunting view of the hoodoos, lit up by the moonlight.
We spent our nights at Bryce inside at Rubys Inn in front of the fire because it was bitterly cold once the sun went down. Over maps and photos and with the news that the road to the North Rim was still open, we decided with Wayne that we would ride to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon together.
We had to negotiate a tunnel through Zion NP that bicycles are prohibited from riding through. After an hour wait and some discussions with the park staff about the need for a better way to get cyclists through the tunnel (they actually encourage hitching through and provide no other alternative, even after you have paid your entrance fee!), we finally get a ride through with a pick-up truck. In Zion we spent a day riding up the scenic Zion Canyon drive past large rock walls such as the 'Court of the Patriarchs', 'the Weeping Wall', and 'the Temple of Sinawava'. We walked up the riverside walk into the narrows of the Virgin River, steep canyon walls carved out over thousands of years by the icy cold Virgin River. We then hiked up the busy paved 'Angels Landing' trail, to a steep rocky ridge and with the help of some chains, to an overlook they call 'Angels Landing' which offered spectacular views down to the valley below. Back down the road we camped at the Watchmen campground and watched stars blaze a trail across the clear night sky.
To get out of Zion we either had to ride back up the hill and through the tunnel again or take a dirt road up onto Gooseberry Mesa. We decided on the dirt road alternative which we found out the locals call 'cry baby hill'. We are constantly being told how steep hills are, or how we won't be able to ride there and they always end up being quite alright and rideable. So we usually respond 'we've had worse' and take their advice with a large pinch of salt. This time however, 'Cry baby hill' turned out to be quite the hill. The loose rutted gravel road pinched straight up and we were all very quickly out of gears. As soon as my front wheel lost traction I was off the bike. It was impossible to get back on the bike on the steep hill and loose surface so the only option was to stay off and push my bike and trailer up the hill. This is the first hill in over 5,000 miles that we have had to walk up so it was no small thing. With all my strength I pushed, then stopped every 15 metres or so. I looked up the hill and Anna had walked small sections but still managed to ride most parts of the hill. Behind me Wayne was cursing, leaned at an angle into his loaded bike, he hauled it uphill step by step, both of us sweated in the warm midday sun. After several sections of riding and then walking it flattened out after a mile or so of 20 per cent graded hill. The views back over Zion were spectacular from the top of the Mesa. A bit of a taste for what some of the hills and roads might be like in Central and South America.
After the peace and quiet of the gravel road over Gooseberry Mesa we then rejoined the trucks, traffic and small shoulder of the highway 59 into Arizona to camp at the Kanab Indian Reservation at Pipe Springs National Monument. A funny little campground, almost closed for the season and no one wanted to take our $5 for the night, 'no you don't pay here, pay over there', which then followed by 'no, you pay at the Mobil gas station', who told us, 'no you have to go back to the RV park and pay the camp host (who was still sleeping at this hour of the morning)'. We wanted to pay since it was so little, but noone wanted our money, so we cycled on after a free night of showers, a rarity on our trip.
It took us three days of riding from Zion to reach the North Rim of the Grand Canyon including a fairly tough day of climbing up to Jacob Lake at nearly 8,000 feet again. We pitched our tents in the closed and newly refurbished Jacob Lake National Forest campground. The best campgrounds for us are those that are closed - they are free, there's noone else there which means you can choose whichever site you like, you don't have to answer any questions, there's no noisy RV's or generators to disturb the peace and quiet, and in this case there was water and toilets available over at the nearby lodge.
From Jacob Lake we rode further up the Kaibab Plateau to 8,800 feet. Once again we were riding among Aspen and Ponderosa pines with layers of snow blanketing the shaded sections of forest. Usually the north rim road closes by mid-October with snow, so we were extremely lucky to still be able to ride into the Grand Canyon this way. At the north rim campground it was back to basic winter facilities and there were only several other campers there. Unfortunately the RV closest to us fired up their generator before dark, making us wish we had camped a little further away. It's one of the joys of camping in the USA and Canada, listening to the hum of generators and engines in park campgrounds, keeping the otherwise oblivious occupants warm inside with lights on while drowning out the sounds of birds, squirrels and the silence of the forest mmm...how's the serenity? By 8:15pm we have had enough and Anna approaches them to turn it off out of respect to the whole place. I offered back-up with a heavy torch. The guy was all fired up and said he can have it run until 10pm in line with the rules. I quickly pointed out that he should read the rules properly which he stormed off to do. In five minutes the generator was turned off and he apologised across the darkness of the campsite to us. Peace and quiet returned to the North Rim.
We planned to hike down into the Grand Canyon so we obtained permits from the backcountry office to spend two nights at Cottonwood campground which would also enable us to hike into the Colorado river. So we transformed all of our equipment into overnight hiking mode, loaded up our packs, stashed our bikes away in the woods and took off down the North Kaibab Trail. It was steep from the beginning, used as a mule trail in summer, rocky and dusty it drops quickly through 4,000 feet of elevation passing through several distinctive rock layers that make up the Grand Canyon. The trail hugged sheer cliff walls, crossed bridges and passed roaring springs and waterfalls on the way down to Bright Angel Canyon. Unlike the South Rim, the North Rim is actually a long way back from the Colorado river rarely seen from the viewpoints and as such the hike in is longer and more gradual along the North Kaibab than the South Kaibab trail. From Cottonwood campground we hiked a further 7 miles through the inner canyon to the Colorado and the heart of the Grand Canyon. It was awesome to be there, seeing the green waters of the Colorado rushing by beneath us, rafters floated by into the rapids, turkey vultures soared overheads on the thermals and high above us the red cliffs and walls of the south rim and rock temples. It's an experience to get up close to places by hiking, rather than seeing things from the bike, so we really valued the opportunity to be able to hike down into the largest canyon in the world and to spend two nights camping below the rim. Back at the North Rim we camped overlooking 'the transept', and watched the sun set over the vast canyon, the colours changed from orange to purple to blue.
We said our farewells to Wayne back at Jacob Lake, he would head around to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon then south to Phoenix, whilst we were headed west back towards Las Vegas via Zion NP again.
This time through Zion we spent longer in the eastern end of the park and did some exploring and short walks up into slot canyons, across striped checkerboard rock walls, up slickrock slopes, and across layered pink and red sandstone dunes, while most people in cars rushed on past missing the beauty of the place. Once again on the park roads, people drove extremely fast, overtaking us on blind corners through cut out sections of road, 'what's the rush?' we think. We are amazed at how people drive here, i mean it's a National Park to protect the wildlife and plants of the region and people are tearing around at great speeds. Most just want to be able to drive everywhere to the sights so they can see it all in as little time as possible and the parks have been created that way. There was even a sign at the visitor centre with ideas to how to do 'Zion in less than three hours', which sums up the mentality of many people we see on the roads. But we enjoyed the place to ourselves on our second run through, a sandstone desert canyon paradise!
This time at the tunnel, we waited less than five minutes for a pick-up to give us a ride through. We sat in the back of the pick-up with our bikes and gear piled in and watched the light disappear as we entered the tunnel, windows of the peaks of Zion flashed by and we glowed red in the brake lights in the dark. We were extremely grateful for the ride, before we launched into the downhill through an array of switchbacks and sweeping corners, heads arched to the sky taking in the mountain top views, down into the Zion Canyon and to the Watchmen campground.
We stayed with a friendly family (whom we met on the North Rim) in St George on eve of thanksgiving, but with an tempting invite to stay for the feast and to meet the whole extended family, we felt the urge to keep moving to Las Vegas. We still had to climb one last pass in Utah at 4,400 feet over 'Utah Hill' to avoid a dangerous section of the I-17 intersate through the Virgin River Gorge, so in steady rain we climbed up to the summit. There, it felt like the earth rotated in our favour and tipped us into a 45 minute, 15 mile downhill descent into the desert and Arizona. Our hands were frozen in the rain, as we pedalled to stay warm. A funny way to leave Utah and to enter the Mojave Desert we thought, under grey skies, and pouring rain. Large Joshua Tree forests covered the silhouetted hillsides some burnt and some green and the desert soil smelt so good. Another flat tyre for Anna, her fourth in four days made it a rush against time to get to Mesquite before dark but we made it. Soaked and cold in Nevada, large flashing casino signs dominated the evening sky, horrible people chain smoking in bad clothes locked themselves to their pokie machines, and we slept inside in a motel.
We are now in Las Vegas staying with Kevin O'Leary our host from the 'Warm Showers' network. It is an amazing placec to see first hand, the first glimpse of the skyline from the hills on the interstate, the extreme poverty in the northern edges of the city, riding down the Strip fully loaded past wedding chapels, Elvis, casinos, and the endless buffets and excess of food and money. So much to see and enjoy as well as some much needed rest, will fill you in on the details and photos next time around.
From the desert...enjoy
Alister and Anna
The Fuego Project
