(see, it has a spot for YOU)
We left at 1:30 PM right after the game. Wait, make that 3:30...errr 4:45. Okay, finally we met up at Applejack and rolled out at 7PM. Glen had no voice and I'm pretty sure Pat was still a bit "groggy" from the game.
Between 3 guys, 3 bikes, 3 chipotle burritos, 100+ pound cooler, food, camping stuff, clothes, (not many) extra gas, and all the other travel stuff my already-slow 4Runner couldn't fit another thing in it. (except you)
We rumbled up the first part of I-70 at a blazing 50 MPH until Floyd Hill in which it was smooth going the rest of the way. Glen was in and out, Pat stayed with me the whole trip...good co-piloting indeed. We all did talk about how cool it was we were headed to Moab but how you are the one REALLY doing it right and LTDin... I think Pat said it best, "yeah, I'm happy for Annie and all but I can't lie, I'm just really fucking jealous"
We arrived at about 12 PM in desert of Moab. Being it was labor day I knew camping would be a bit of an issue. Even with the hundereds and hundreds of camping sites available it is never easy to find a good spot during a holiday weekend. We had some sketchy directions to a hidden spot from a friend of a friend which we got lucky and followed them to a tee. (yes, I know, I actually FOLLOWED directions correctly for once!)
We had to do some moderate 4-wheelin' through a ditch. On the way out of the ditch I got hung up on a rock. I was rocking my car back and forth, trying to get out when all of a sudden this primative-man looking man emerged out of the brush wearing a head lamp. He pointed to the left, I turned my wheels, gave it some gas and I was out. He nodded, gave me a thumbs up and dissapeared back into the woods.
We drove another 100 yards, barely getting to the top of this mini-platue and called it good. We got out, setup camp and then proceeded to all shot-gun a beer to officially kick off the trip under the nearly full moon. We then all sat down to absorb the vastness of the moon-lit desert around us.
The next day we awoke to blazing temps. It had to be close to 90 at 9AM. We cooked up "Jeff's Gnar Cakes" as Glen dubbed them. (Pancakes with protien, almonds, gronola, oatmeal and more) We each ate two of them and couldn't handle anymore...they filled us up gooooood.
We packed up and drove to Slickrock, it's a famous trail for mtn bikes in Moab that basically makes Moab what Moab is. The 11 mile loop is 95% on one HUGE rock. We arrived at 11 when everybody else was clearing out. The temps off the rock had to be close to 100 when we first began. It's crazy what your bike will go up/down when you are riding the "slickrock". It's actually quite grippy, much like pavement.
Thankfully nobody fell except for Pat on the final leg of the trip when we had run out of water and heat stroke was setting in. He did a flip into one of the only sandy spots on the whole ride. Good thing!
We arrived back at the car dehydrated and feeling half way drunk from the heat. Pat and Glen were ultra-struggling from the antics the day before at the football game.
Back in town we drank a gallon of water (each) and took a nap in city park. When we awoke we saw the city pool which we snuck into and showered at.
After this we picked up some ice (to make margs with/keep beer-food cold) and went to camp to cook up some delicous food. I was on the margs (strawberry frozen...yes I have a blender in my car) and guac, Glen was sou-chef and Pat made some corn tortilla steak tacos with fresh salsa. They were gooooood.
Later in the night I tried to explain to Pat and Glen that when I was a kid my dad told me two things about drinking. He told me how it was terrible when guys got drunk and drove around but on the flip side how funny it was when guys got so drunk they wanted to kiss each other. (obviously to deter me from drinking in the first place...the story was made up) This story popped into my head and it occured to me that I had never seen or heard of any guy getting so drunk they just had to kiss another guy. When I was trying to explain this story in hopes to clear up this question it ended up coming out like. "I've been drunk before and never wanted to kiss another guy, isn't that weird guys?" Yeah, not so smooth. That capped off the night.
The next day we rode Soverign Trail. It was hot (again) and we were smarter this time, leaving earlier and taking more water. However, after about 3 hours of pounding in the heat, it is no longer fun. We called it quits and went into town so Glen could do his homework.
Pat and I tried to figure out where to camp this night, we decided to head into the mountains to the East. They tower above Moab at just under 13,000 ft and usually have snow on them well into May giving a very "Lord of the Rings" effect to the scenery (desert to mountain desert to lush hills to mountains to high alpine)
After picking up some food to cook for the night we headed east for about 20 miles, going up and up into the moutains. In between the desert below and the aspen laiden mountains we past a bed and breakfest. I think we should head here some weekend....I took a picture so we'de remember it.
We arrived to Warner Lake (after nearly hitting some cows) at about 4:30 and thankfully most of the Labor Day crowd had moved out of this isolated spot. I excitedly jumped out of the car and started unpacking. Somewhere in this timeframe I rubbed against the car, well, even though I may not have hit the cows they got the better of me. I DID hit a cowpie and now that cowpie was on my white shorts. ICK!
We went and fished the lake for about an hour in which I caught 3 fish and a duck (not really, but he kept trying to eat my fly) before a storm moved in.
The storm lasted until well into the evening. Finally, after over an hour, it broke. We started cooking some pasta with margs/beer. It was Deeee-licious. We had some cookies to cook over the fire. I knew when they were done but Pat and Glen refused to pull them out. They burned. :-( I know if you were with us the fire would have cooked them better AND you would have known when to take them out...
The next day we did Burro Pass, it's a long climb up to about 12000 feet. The climb sucked, we ended up walking our bikes about as much as riding them. When we arrived at the top, a storm was threatening so we turned around for the most fun downhill of the year. Glen rode well and Pat REALLY stepped up his game, following my every line staying behind me till the bottom. Impresseive.
When we arrived in camp we decided to end the trip the way we started it, with the shot-gunning of a beer. We did, cheers'd one more to the weekend to come (float the green) and started the long drive home.
the end.
Love you!
The
