I
ended up staying up a bit later than expected and slept passed my first alarm
and woke up at the second one at 5:30 am. Tried to sneak out unnoticed but
Claire (the Dane) growled up a storm that woke Leah up and she came down to see
me off. It had already begun to light up outside and I was concerned that I was
going to get fried on the road to Moab. The Sun rose directly ahead of me, and
the temperature with it. I was again surrounded by the beautiful dessert with
an occasional canyon that would curve the otherwise straight roads. The first
of which was Virgin River Canyon. The massive bare rocks rose up from the
dessert and nearly swallowed up the interstate. As I was riding through, the
sun hit the walls of the canyon just right and the walls reflected the light in
a pure gold color. It reminded me of a 1969 Western film Mackenna’s Gold.
Greedy bandits had kidnapped an old Indian and forced him to lead them to a legendary
canyon whose walls were lined with gold. Upon arriving to the canyon it was
merely the light of the setting sun hitting the walls of the canyon. The
bandits were furious but to the Natives the sight of the setting sun against
the canyon walls was more precious than gold.
Several
other canyons came up and the largest of which was probably Devil’s Canyon just
before hitting Moab. I was eager to get to Moab but still pulled off into the
viewpoint to snap a picture. As I was mounting back up a beautiful black horse
caught my attention and I could not help but pet the amazing creature. I
snapped a quick picture to show a friend who breeds and rides horses.
The
turn off to Moab could not come soon enough. I messaged my host Tiara ahead of
time to let her know of my arrival and ask where I could find a body of water.
There was the Colorado River just before town that I was hurrying to get to.
The sun had baked me as I chose to ride through the hours that it beat most
direct. The landscape had still been fairly flat and I passed by an airport.
“Skydive Moab” a sign read out front and I decided instantly that it would
become part of my itinerary in the next few days. Just after the airport the
road slanted downwards ever so slightly and as I dropped in elevation the red
canyon walls rose up alongside me. My ear buds blared soundtracks from the Last
of the Mohicans and Dances With the Wolves. The combination of the music and
what lay before me gave birth to goose bumps that covered my entire body. The
feeling was magnificent. The bottom ¾ of
the walls consisted of scattered rocks and boulders and the last ¼, which was
about 150-200 feet, was a solid rock wall. I could not believe how gorgeous it
was and with every mile it got better. The walls of the canyon narrowed the
closer I got into to town until they were wide enough to encase just the road
and the river. Agh the river, I pulled over and asked several young girls that
were just leaving from a swim where I could jump in. They pointed at the
opposite shore informing me of a rock just at the other side of the bridge.
Before they waived goodbye they asked if I had any cigarettes. “I don’t smoke!”
I hollered at them, thinking that even if I did I wouldn’t give you any, they
had clearly all been under 18.
I
parked Cindy on a spot that looked like a base to an old bridge. The base had a
straight drop to the water about 10’ below and made for a perfect place to jump
in. I made sure my wallet and phone were not in my pockets and didn’t care to
undress for the leap. Jump, air, then water with a splash. It felt so
refreshing after riding in the mid-day sun. My cloths allowed for the fast
moving current to pull me harder than it would have if I undressed and I had to
hurry back to the shore. In the several seconds after the jump I was downstream
about 40 feet or so, it was fast and murky. I made a note to myself to Google
how many people had drowned in that part of the river. The wet cloths kept me
cool for a while longer as I mounted back up and rode to the other side of the
river to Lions Park to the fresh water well to wash up. The climb out of the
riverbank had thick soft sand and when trying to raise one leg the other would
sink in to the knee from the weight. This had caked my jeans in a layer of sand
and river silt and I was glad that there was fresh running water. I washed all
of my cloths and thought of changing into clean ones but ended up washing the
clothes once more and putting it on wet. My system of air-conditioning was
flawless. I was unaffected by the blistering sun.
Downtown
Moab was only about a mile away and I pulled up to a Café to catch up on some work,
as my hostess would only be available in a few hours. I had been neglecting my
writing and work with all the miles that I was trying to travel so the time
spent there was extremely productive. Before I knew it the time was 6:20 and I
was to meet up with Tiara at 6:30 for a friends birthday party just one block
away. The ride was quick and the streets were lined with storefronts that
tourists were peaking through. A spa, art gallery, restaurants, coffee shops,
and tour companies were among the continuous string of establishments. I parked
and walked up to the outdoor patio of Eddy McStiff’s. I told the hostess I was
waiting for someone and she asked if I needed any water, I declined. I sat for
a minute or two and the hostess returned with a glass of water and a smile.
“You look like you need it”, she said as she set the glass down. I guess my
face had “I just rode 470 miles through the dessert” written on it. I wasn’t
going to fool anyone. The condensation from the side of the glass collected on
my fingertips as I tilted it back and the ice rolled down to stop at my face.
The hostess looked at me with an “I told you so” look on her face. Within a few
minutes Tiara pulled up and I examined carefully, as this was the first time I
had met her, prior to this it was a few FB messages back an forth. When I was
sure it was she I caught up and greeted her just before she went through the
entrance door.
The
birthday girl was a South African friend of hers, Zinzi, who was turning 30.
Culturally 30 is a big deal for South Africans, like a golden birthday if you
will. When she finally arrived she was glowing with energy and happiness. I
couldn’t help myself and joined up in the celebrations as if I was one of their
own. All of the guests were bronzed from being in the sun all the time. A majority
of them worked outdoors doing something physical, the rest indoors but all tied
into the booming tourist industry that is present during the spring, summer,
and fall months. The only one was a Persian gentleman by the name of Amir, who
was an engineer at a mine just outside of town. But he did not stand out and
was as happy and energetic as the rest. I shared with everyone who I was and
what I was doing and Zinzi’s eyes lit up at the mention of the motorcycle… I
mean Cindy, sorry Cindy. I gladly offered her a celebratory ride around town;
it was the least contribution I could make to her special day. As the party
died down we mounted up and buzzed up to the Colorado River and back. The whole
way I could feel smile warming the back of my head. I again was glad I could
share a little piece of what I had been experiencing these last few weeks from
atop my iron horse. I dropped her off with some hugs and Birthday wishes and
Tiara offered to head upriver to a place where there were rapids and a perfect view
of the night sky for some stargazing.
I
unloaded the saddle bags and we only took the necessities, it felt good
lightening up Cindy’s load. The ride up was dark and I had to ride slower than
I would have liked to on the windy road that closely hugged the river on one
side and the canyon walls on the other. It was a new road for me and the curves
would hide the upcoming road in the darkness. The light from my headlight could
not bend around the corner and I was not going to push Cindy with Tiara riding
with me. The drops in the road would dip us into cooler temperatures and the
climbs would warm us back up again. This stretch of road was a bikers dream,
and I couldn’t wait to let Cindy loose on it in the bright of day.
I
put myself in the shoes of the campers whose fires lined the river. The quiet
night with only the sound of the river and crackling fire would all of the
sudden be disrupted by a nightrider. It would first be a distant echo that
bounced along the canyon walls ahead of the source, and eventually the gargle
of the pipes would rise in pitch. The twisting and turning road dictating the
rise and fall of RPM’s as the iron horseman navigated his way through the
canyon. The pitch would climax as he accelerated on the straightaway beside our
campsite and drop tones as he began to distance himself from us.
We
pulled up to the parking spot to the rapids and as soon as I shut the noisy
engine off the deafening silence took its place. It was unreal and when I
looked up at the blanket of stars above me my jaw dropped. Tiara said it was
going to get even better as the sun had just set and complete darkness had not
set in yet. We began to hike to the edge of the river where the rapids were and
I asked Tiara to shut off the flashlight. I wanted to walk to the river with
just the stars and the sliver of a moon shining on the ground before us. It was
easy enough until we got to the rocks, they lost their shape in the darkness
and where you thought them to be flat they were pitched and visa versa. We
managed to make it to the rivers edge found a piece of driftwood to sit on. The
water was turning just several feet away from us and I tried picturing the
white water with no luck. I was reminded of a Russian saying that went, “There
are three things that a person can never get tired of watching, a fire, water
(like waves or the constant flow of a river), and another person working. The
little twist at the end got me a chuckle from Tiara. I am always weary of
telling Russian anecdotes in an English version, as some of the meaning is
sometimes lost through translation.
We
managed to make our way back with no light and picked out a spot to lay the
blanket down. The spot was on the sloped bank of the river with smaller rocks
that made it possible to lay comfortably on our backs exposing to the show that
was directly above us. The only thing I could muster up was “Oh my GOD” as my
head hit the slope and eyes made contact with the sky. Titling my head further
back I could see the Milky Way ribbon itself across the sky further behind us.
Throughout the night it kept closer and closer into our field of view and
eventually we did not have to tilt our heads to see it. I was amazed at the
amount of satellites buzzing this way and that across the sky. By the end of
the night I had counted 17 of them and they had never traveled the same path.
We also got lucky and saw about 7 shooting stars. Some were faint and brief
while others lit up the sky bright and shot clear across the entire sky above
us.
We
spent several hours looking up into nothing and at the same time everything
putting our size into perspective. We were something so small, part of
something so big and wondrous. The little problems I though I had diminished
into a fraction of a fraction of a fraction and I could not help but smile for
being part of this wonderful universe.
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