Thrills and Spills at Moab
April 23-25, 2004
Rock climbers gravitate to Yosemite. Wind surfers collect in the Columbia River Gorge. Mountaineers look at Everest and Denali with reverential awe. Every sport has it's mecca. Mountain bikers concider Moab, Utah, to be the seat and radiant of their religion.
 Our campsite amongst the slickrock and sand. |
Despite miserable late-season snow in the Front Range, Amy and I packed up, threw the bikes on the car, and headed out after lunch on Friday. It had been nearly ten months since we'd last camped and we were looking forward to joing our friends Kristie and Justin in Moab for a weekend of mountain biking, camping, and generally escaping the persistent winter weather of Boulder. Kristie, Justin, and their friend Eric had headed out on Thursday night and secured a campsite. All three are accomplished mountain bikers and they promissed not to abuse us too much. We anticipated learning a lot and having a lot of fun in the process in a new place (this would be our first time in Utah and one of our first expeditions west of the Continental Divide).
Fortunately, the weather soon mellowed and we saw the incredible scenery along the I-70 corridor. The familiar snow-tipped peaks of the Rocky Mountains gradually transitioned to flat-topped mesas and long hogbacks in the western part of the Colorado. The climate became drier and drier and, as we crossed the state border, transitioned in to wind-swept aridness. Far to the south spectacular snow-tipped peaks reared above sunset-reddened sandstone canyon country. By sunset we'd turned south on US191 toward Moab and watched the bluffs of the Moab Fault pass by. By dusk, we reached the town, found our way to Sand Flats Road, and ascended various twists and turns to the campsite as per Kristie's directions. They had secured a comfortable, sandy campsite in one of the public areas sandwitched between slickrock outcroppings and juniper bushes. The smell of sage brush and sand greated us as we set up the tent and marvelled at the desert sky overhead.Saturday - We awoke with the sun long before the others were stirring and set out on foot to explore the novel landscape. Huge, rounded hills of Navaho sandstone slickrock surrounded us and a quick hike brought us to the top of one of the ridges. The rising sun shone from the La Sal peaks to the east (the previously sighted snowy peaks) and the morning sun shone on the red walls of the canyon country to the west.
The same terrain that draws mountain bikers to Moab also attracts 4x4s, ATVs, and motorcycles. This is a mixed blessing to be sure, but the groups manage to coexist fairly harmoniously. We watched in amazement as a heavily-modified Jeep 4x4 climbed up the narrow, steep rock ridge to the west and started its ponderous way down the jeep road known as Hell's Revenge.
After a leisurely and heavy breakfast, we saddled up and drove up Rt 131 about 10 miles to the Gemini Bridges trailhead. Eric and I shuttled a car down to the end of the trail and back up and, at noon, we finally hit the trail. The Gemini Bridges trail is a 14 mile course on easy terrain (mostly wide, dirt road) from the high plateaus down into canyon country and finally out to the Moab Fault and Rt 191. We tore down the trail at a fantastic rate (30 mph) wondering if the trail would get harder and more interesting. 4-wheelers and jeeps passed us occasionally and the atmosphere was thick with exhaust fumes.
After four miles, we stopped at the Gemini Bridges themselves. They are a pair of closely spaced bridges over the end of Bull Canyon. The span and depth of each is about 100 feet. The decaying body of a dog (leash still attached) lay below the arches and showed quite graphically what happens if you slip and fall. The bridges themselves were about 10 feet wide and crossing them was not a problem, but still... We entertained ourselves on some slickrock and learned new skills before heading onward.
 From the start of the Gemini Bridges road, you can see buttes and mesas in the high desert. |
 The tops of the Gemini Bridges with some people for scale. |
 Looking from the Bridges into Bull Canyon below. |
 Looking through the Gemini Bridges into the canyon beyond. The black smear at the bottom is a dead dog. |
Our next goal was to get to the bottom of the Bridges. This is done by splitting off the main trail onto a harder trail known as the Two Tortoise Loop which adds about 8 miles of trail to the Gemini Bridges road. We descended on more road to the bottom of Bull Canyon and started up the wash. Biking on rock is great fun. Biking in deep sand, however, is great effort and very difficult to boot. After a sunny, hot mile in sand, we reached the head of the canyon amidst hoards of motorheads. From down here the Bridges showed their true scale. While each is about 100' tall, neither reaches even half way to the bottom of the canyon! Red sandstone walls soared up on all sides carved into fantastic chimneys, hollows, and towers. Satisfied, we turned and rethreaded the canyon.
 The downside of equal backcountry access are fumes, noise, litter, and devestated landscapes. |
 The desert flowers are truly stunning. This one, in addition, is very prickly. |
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 Gemini Bridges viewed from below. |
 The head of Bull Canyon. Note the people standing near the base of the wall for scale. The feature near the top will be an arch some day. |
The next order of business was the more technically challenging part of the Two Tortoise loop, but it was a little unclear where the loop continued. We travelled down-stream from the canyon over rough trail and suddenly, came upon a precipice 50 feet deep! Dismounting, we discovered that we were perched on the side of a small canyon which emptied over a several-hundred-foot drop into a larger canyon. This larger canyon, in turn, empties into one larger still! These canyons had surrounded us on three sides and we had no idea of it until shortly before the edge. Canyon country is very disorienting and my usually excellant sense of direction was hopelessly confused. Consulting maps and using the sun as a compass, we found that this was the aptly-named Surprise Overlook, a side-arm of Day Canyon which is 400-500' deep. A stream could be seen flowing down through cottonwoods toward the Colorado River. Incredible... but not where we were trying to go.
We retraced our path up some rocks which had been easy enough to descend but proved quite steep and technical on the way up. Eric and Justin scouted out a path which was soon determined to be the remainder of the Two Tortoise loop. We quickly left the motorheads behind and started in on some really fine riding across red dirt and exposed slickrock. The trail became quite a bit more technical and I started to really enjoy my new bike with its nice front shocks. Amy handled most of the hard stuff quite well and both of us improved our mountain biking skills tremendously in just a few short miles. Fortunately, much of the trail sloped downward so effort was minimized.
At length we passed the picturesque Two Tortoise Butte for which the trail is named. Beautiful and strange. To the east we could see the strange spires and fins of Arches National Park and in the far distance, the LaSal Mountains thrust upward 8000' from the desert to snow-capped brilliance in the afternoon sun. No motors and almost no sign of human involvement spoiled the view. Wow.
 The aptly-named Surprise Overlook into Day Canyon. It's at least 400' deep at this point and we didn't see it until we were about 50' away. |
 Finally, back on the main road, we biked through Little Canyon past The Pinky (right). |
More wonderful slickrock ledges and a couple of steep dirt climbs brought us to the junction with the Gold Bar Rim trail near Monticello Butte (looks like the Jefferson Memorial in Washington, DC), a famously difficult ride we elected to avoid for today. Instead, we turned left and regained the Gemini Bridges road near where we'd left it after about a mile. From here, the trail was once again trivially easy and we cycled out through Little Canyon in the afternoon sun. Little Canyon, despite the name, is rather long and it took us far longer than we would have liked to get to the mouth of it. To our surprise, we discovered we were still conciderably above the road and needed to traverse the face of the cliffs for several miles before dropping precipitously down to the trailhead. We arrived at sunset shaken, dusty and sore after 25 miles of riding. Definitely a workout! Eric and I shuffled the cars again and we quickly got back to camp and a hearty dinner of burritos, corona, and fine companionship.
 Eric, Justin, Kristie, and Amy on the Two-Tortoise Loop. The eponymous buttes are in the background and the incredible La Sal mountains loom in the distance. |
Sunday - Today was to be the easy day for us. While Eric, Justin, and Kristie embarked upon the abusive Porcupine Rim Trail. The weather looked like a repeat of yesterday and we packed the campsite leisurely.
Moab's most famous trail, perhaps the most famous mountain bike trail in the country, is the Moab Slickrock Trail. It is 12 miles of slickrock riding rated 4 out of 5 in technical difficulty as it winds through a bewildering maze of Navajo sandstone. There is also a 2.5 mile Practice Loop for those not ready for prime time like us. The others had ridden the whole loop on Friday, but decided to accompany us on the Practice Loop before parting company.
Slickrock is interesting stuff being very fine-grained, but incredibly grippy. You can ride across a 45-degree slope (steep enough that your pedals don't even go all the way around) without slipping. It takes nerve and much weight-shifting to do it, but similar slopes can be descended and ascended at great speed. It's been compared to surfing on rock, and I can see why.
Things started out well enough with some gentle slopes and short, steep climbs. Amy walked parts of it, but I managed to ride everything. Half a mile in was our first traverse which, though psychologically wiggy, no problem at all. Immediately after was a steep drop perhaps 30' long down a ramp with a few divots and potholes onto a shallow off-camber turn. Justin shot down this at high speed and, not to be unmanned, I followed with no trouble. Yeeha! Incredible!
Amy appeared at the top of the ramp and met strong encouragement from the rest of us. She gamely started down and was doing fine through the whole slope. She'd built up quite a bit of speed, however, and wasn't too happy about it. Everyone's a little hazy as to exactly what happened, but suddenly she was performing the most spectacular over-the-handlebars dismount I have ever seen. Her bike spun end-for-end (the tops of both shifter levers are scraped up) and she landed on the level slickrock head and shoulder first.
Within seconds, everyone had gathered at Amy's side. Her arms were okay and she was concious. Everything hurt, of course, but particularly her right shoulder and neck. Clearly riding was done for the day. Kristie rigged a quick shoulder sling as Eric rescued her bike and I grabbed her pack and other gear. Fortunately, we were only about half a mile from the cars and she could walk without trouble. When we got back to the cars, there wasn't much else for anyone else to do, so we parted company--they for the Porcupine Rim, us for the Moab Memorial Hospital.
 Amy with separated shoulder at the Delicate Arch. This is the feature that's on all the Utah license plates and tourist literature. |
 The precarious (and huge; it's 120' tall) Balanced Rock in Arches National Park. It's only a matter of time, people... |
Moab is a fairly small town, but their hospital sees a lot of sports-related injuries and is thus first-rate. There is a scoreboard up in the radiology room about who's been injured on which trails and Amy was number 15 for Slickrock of 2004. The prognosis was quickly delivered and relatively good: no neck injuries, only a separated AC joint--the ligaments and tendons which connect collar bone and shoulderblade had become separated a centimeter or more. No broken bones and she'd only have to wear a sling for a week or two. She wasn't happy about it, clearly, but it was much better than it could have been.
Relieved that nothing else was wrong though bummed about the accident and the pain, we wandered around Moab for a while. We drove through Arches NP for a few hours and took a couple of short hikes. Finally, we stopped for icecream and hit the road at 5:30 for the long drive back to Boulder.
While the injury brought a sour note to the weekend, we still had a great time and got in a full day of cycling on Saturday. The scenery was amazing and unlike anything we'd ever seen before. The company was similarly good and it was great to get out and see a new part of the world. Amy may not agree, but I can't wait to get back there and try the rest of the Slickrock Trail.
 The Wilderness Journal |  Neithernor |