Daniel's Two-Wheeled Revenge

Our day in Moab was busy busy busy. After driving back from Monticello with a patched tire, much more quickly than we'd driven there, we went straight to the Moab Adventure Centre. Moab is a small town but it plays host to many thrill-seeking tourists, predominantly during spring and the fall. There's something to whet everybody's appetite in Moab, whether it be 4WD-ing, dirt biking, kayaking, canyoneering, rock climbing or mountain biking. Daniel had booked us in for mountain biking and, much to my chagrin, he hadn't chosen the easiest trail. I was terrified, and he seemed pretty pleased with himself. I'm certain it was payback for the horse riding.

When our guide arrived she announced that we had her all to ourselves. Our timing has been excellent this trip - we've missed peak season but not yet been exposed to true winter weather. She drove us out to Dead Horse Point State Park and we chatted along the way. She'd been born in Salt Lake City but had got out of Utah as soon as she was old enough and never planned to come back. Then her husband taught her how to mountain bike and they began spending each spring in Moab, eventually settling permanently. According to her, Moab doesn't really feel like Utah.

The trail we were supposedly going to be riding (or trying to ride) took us along the edge of Canyonlands National Park, Utah's answer to the Grand Canyon. There were two options. The first was a relatively simple four mile loop. The second was a nine mile loop, but she said she doesn't take many people along that one. The first couple of miles overlapped, so we'd be able to make a decision once we knew how we were going to handle it.

The Trail

The view (and the ride itself) was breathtaking. Unfortunately that meant the view was also extremely distracting, and we often stopped to take it all in. We could see across the Canyonlands to the snow-covered La Sal Mountains. At one point we even crawled to a cliff edge on our bellies and made the mistake of looking down over the drop. Again, our timing was good as we'd backed off a few minutes before the wind picked up.

Don't look down...

Canyonlands and the La Sal Mountains

I'm running out of adjectives, and I need to get more creative with them. The [insert appropriate adjective here] expanse of the Canyonlands made us realise something very sad. I don't think we got the full impact of the Grand Canyon on our helicopter trip. What we saw was nowhere near as grand as the Canyonlands, and was probably just an easy tick of a box for lazy tourists. Making it even worse, we'd been only an hour from the main Grand Canyon lookout on our drive from Las Vegas to Monument Valley. We hadn't really realised because we weren't organised and were driving to a GPS, not a map, and insofar as we were aware of it, we weren't sure if our tire would hold out or if we had the time. It's probably the biggest stuff-up of the trip so far. Bummer.

The riding itself was actually quite enjoyable, especially once we settled into it. Daniel looked as pleased as punch ... until he was the first one to stack it. Daniel insists that he didn't fall off, but I think being tangled up in the bike on the ground counts. I admit, I also came a cropper, but I managed to land on my feet and run it out. Pure talent.

Runnin' Rebels Represent

Nonetheless, our guide seemed happy with our sick skillz and we continued on the nine mile loop. At this point I was a wheezing mess and kept holding the other two up. It might have had something to do with the altitude - in any case the cold wind certainly didn't help. I think it was the first asthma attack I've had, and given that it was almost halfway through the trip I don't think it's a bad effort. After nearly two hours on the bike I could barely walk. Once the jelly-legs disappeared, though, the sense of achievement arrived.