Mileage is a funny thing.  We look at the map pretty regularly.  Once a week or so, we’ll add up all the numbers and see what stands between here and there.  And here’s the thing: The numbers change.  They shouldn’t but they do.  When we were in Moab, Noah was buying his ticket home so we needed to know when we’d be finished.  Sit down with the map, add up some numbers, come up with 950ish (for some roads distances aren’t given).  Okay, let’s call it 1000.  That’s two and a half weeks of riding.  This was towards the end of September and we’ll probably want to take a day off somewhere along the way.  Three and a half weeks will be more than enough.  Buy the ticket and ease into the last part of the trip without the stress that usually comes with needing to be somewhere at a certain time.  Five days later, we sat down with the maps again.  850 miles to go.  Wait we spent five days cycling and had only done 100 miles?  That’s not right.  Is it? Are we going to make it?  Okay, let’s go to the Grand Canyon and then figure this out.  We see the canyon (more about this in a bit) and then head to Flagstaff.  Crunch the numbers a third time and now it’s 420.  That’s all.  280 to Tucson (four days of riding) and then 140 for the two day trip to the border and back.  That’s it?  Really?  What are we going to do with the extra time?  We went from not enough time to too much time without leaving the couch.  Ah well.

Since we left Moab, we’ve a winding route through southern Utah.  South to Blanding.  West to Lake Powell.  Across the lake on a ferry.  North through Capital Reef National Park on a sandy dirt rode.  West and up, up, up on an old cattle route to Boulder (UT, not CO).  South past Bryce National Park.  Into Arizona (goodbye Utah!).  Up, over, and down the Kaibab Plateau. Down into Marble Canyon.

That was the route and it went pretty smoothly.  A lot of ups and downs.  The nights above 7000 feet were cold.  The night below 4000 feet were hot.  Elevation matters.

The descent from the Kaibab Plateau was wonderful.  We spent the morning climbing 3000 feet over the course of 15 miles.  This climb wasn’t marked on any of our maps, so it was a bit of a surprise.  At the top of the climb is scenic Jacob Lake, which is little more than a lodge and a gas station next to a small pond/mud puddle.  (It’s tough to have a lake at 8000 feet in the desert and Jacob Mud Puddle wouldn’t have sounded as majestic.)  And then we got to go down.  A lot.  We lost 2000 feet over the next 10 miles and then another 2000 feet over the next 35 miles.  It would have been nice if we weren’t able to look far across the plain and see that we’d be climbing up out of the valley the next day.  Ah well.

The first half of the next day was up; the second have was down.  It was all into the wind and all with a narrow shoulder that was dominated by the rumble strip.  Not a wonderful day.  But it brought us to Cameron, so that’s something.  No, actually, it’s not.  Cameron was full of stray dogs that barked all night so, although the campground was free, neither of us got any sleep.  It’s odd to get into your sleeping bag when the sun goes down, get out of your sleeping bag when the sun comes up 13 hours later, and still be tired.

The next day we headed towards the Grand Canyon.  The park entrance is 30 miles west of Cameron and in those 20 miles we gained 3000 feet.  (It’s the same 3000 feet.  Up and down and up and down.)  Halfway up the hill the rain and wind started.  We pulled over to the side of the road and huddled in the lee of a jewelry stand.  Eventually the rain stopped and we were able to bike high enough into the trees that the wind wasn’t a factor any more.  At the end of the climb, though, we were at the Grand Canyon.  It’s tough to remain angry at the weather when you’re looking over spectacular views.

The next day, we headed to Flagstaff and stayed with the friend of some guy we met in a coffee shop in Utah.  An odd connection, but it’s been awesome to take some time to relax.  They’re all big bike guys, so we’ve been talking shop and trading stories.

After putting up with my rambling thoughts, you all deserve some pictures, so here you go:

Noah plots a course across Lake Powell

The descent off Kaibab

Our first view of the Grand Canyon

Tim and Noah look at a majestic hole in the ground

The garage of the guys we stayed with in Flagstaff.  How many bikes can you see? (Hint: it’s more than 10)

Now we’re off to the grocery store and then heading south to Strawberry, AZ and on to Mexico.

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