Thursday, September 13.
I left our hotel room in St George at 4:30 am, some two and a half hours before sunrise. Gear and bike and food out the door without stirring Janie. Who was very glad to be 'sleeping in' until closer to sunrise.
Breakfast was instant oatmeal and a banana. The local Gannett newspaper featured a story about the flood in Santa Clara, UT, the suburb of St. George we had ridden through and maneuvered past all the red sand muck the day before. Some sixty homes and businesses damaged or destroyed. I vowed to send a donation (c/o Southern Utah State Bank, 2287 Santa Clara Dr., Santa Clara, UT 84765). And we did.
In the dark, I retrieved the tire pump from the car, topped off my tires, and returned the car keys to the room. Yes, Janie noticed the noise. The overnight desk clerk led me out a side door to show me the path to the bike route. Somehow I missed Nicole, who was waiting for me at the car. Nicole and Janie laughed about this later.
On the bike around 5:00. St. George has wonderful bike paths. The bike light I borrowed from Nicole is much stronger than my half watt LED light, and lit up the route. The Garmin worked well enough to inform me of one wrong turn on the bike path, then falsely stated twice that I was off the route. It continued to work only part time for the next two days. Partly operator error, partly, perhaps, due to dampness from Wednesday's rains. The rising crescent moon and Venus just above it were prominent on the early part of the ride. Garmin chimed that I was off the course and somehow seemed to indicate that I should enter a mobile home park. Was this part of the bike trail system? A few turns and it was time to retrace my route, which I now shared with the newspaper delivery car.
Back on city streets, I approached a red traffic light. I unclipped my left foot, steadied myself and promptly fell over on my right, unable to unclip the right foot in time. Bloodied knee and twisted brake hood and derailleur. I repositioned the rear dérailleur (Janie would have described it as 'rebent') and continued through the intersection, pride and knee hurting. And off course for two and a half miles. Garmin again not helpful.
Nicole came to my rescue, and we rendezvoused at the same intersection where I'd splatted twenty minutes earlier. Biked out of town towards Highway 9 at first light, sharing the road with little traffic. Then a weird sight above the horizon - a glowing box of light with twisted tails. What is that?
Go here, to Nicole's Shutterfly album. Scroll through the pictures. You'll see it.
Nicole's Shutterfly Album
I called Nicole,who had driven ahead to make certain I could find the route. She saw it also. As did the clerk at the convenience store where I stopped for a bathroom break. As did thousands of people from Los Angeles to Denver: What Is That???
Nicole returned to the motel to meet Janie, pack and organize for the day. I continued along Highway 9 to Hurricane, UT. Garmin routed me on side streets as Nicole and Janie leapfrogged ahead in The Little Darkness. My route intersected again with the highway and I gazed appreciatively at a homestead that featured both apple and pomegranate trees heavily ladened with fruit, some beckoning invitingly close to the sidewalk and side street. I left the trees untouched. (This, from Janie: It is so unusual for Pomegranate Boy to leave the fruit untouched!)
Early morning, on the way to Zion.
The route out of town was both uphill and into a slight headwind. Slow going. One lonely stretch of highway offered a view of several ostriches in two pens. I watched as one open mouthed adult hissed and charge another.
Traffic picked up the longer I was in the saddle and the closer I got to Zion National Park. Lots of recrreational vehicles and plenty of fellow tourists, many with bikes, mostly mountain bikes. Janie and Nicole returned from scouting Springdale, the tourist town outside Zion where we would spend the night. Our day's route was to continue through the south park entrance, out the east gate, and drive back to Springdale for the night. We planned how we would approach the park entrance, as we had a car pass. I would either be astride the bike or be forced to the car for entry into the park. The park ranger was cordial and waved me through. (This, from Janie: she was fine with Nicole, didn't like me much, but did indeed wave Jody through.)
Jody, riding to Zion.
Zion's wondrous scenery was spectacular once again. Janie & I had driven this part of the route some three weeks before, on our way to Santa Barbara. We were in awe then and gawked like school kids. This time the inspiring scenery was twinged with the determination to bike climb through the switchbacks of a slow difficult ascent.
Jody, on one of the switchbacks. Impressive.
A man leaning against his mountain bike asked how I was going to get through the tunnel. The park's main route features a 1.1 mile tunnel that is off limits to pedestrians and bicyclists. I said our car was accompanying me. He said he planned to hitch a ride in a pickup. I rode through a line of stopped vehicles to the mouth of the tunnel. Buses and other oversized vehicles reduce the tunnel to alternating one way traffic. The ranger directing traffic asked if I needed to hitch a ride. I told her that Nicole and Janie were in line. She directed them to the side and we racked Jean Luc.
A tough ride up the slope to the first tunnel.
Once through the tunnel, I was back in the saddle. A second, smaller tunnel allows bikers. Nicole and Janie followed close behind me for protection. Once through the second tunnel, they sped ahead. I startled three big horn sheep. The animals took no notice of motor vehicles whizzing past, but a slower, smaller biker was a threat.
Checkerboard Mesa's unique mass dominates the east entrance.
Checkerboard Mesa.
Jody and Janie, in front of Checkerboard Mesa.
Jody and Janie at the east entrance to Zion National Park,
on the way back to the hotel in Springdale.
The buffalo is a surprisingly stupid animal.
~Ellsworth Huntington (September 16, 1876 – October 17, 1947), professor of geography at Yale University, known for his studies on climactic determinism, economic growth and economic geography. Whatever that might be.
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