Telluride, CO to Moab, Utah

From September 14 - 20, 2002 I rode my mountain bike from Telluride, Colorado to Moab, Utah.  These pictures don't come close to the real beauty we experienced almost non-stop; but perhaps they can give you a glimpse of this incredible trip without leaving your chair!  We were at an average elevation of 9,000 feet in the mountains during the first 3-4 days and went through several environmental zones in the process of traveling from the mountains to the desert (Denver sits at about 5,000) feet.  The trip was a total of 206 miles.  A very large map of Colorado on right, close-up of area we traveled below right.

I am especially glad I went on this trip and it will be the memory of a lifetime for the rest of my life, and NOW even the two days of bad weather and mud were an adventure.  If it doesn't kill you, it will make you tougher, and now I feel pretty TOUGH.  The first four days dawned sunny and spectacular with hardly a cloud in the sky.  The scenery was beautiful and we were having a great time.  Unfortunately our luck ran out.  The fifth day dawned cold and rainy, which is bad enough, but we were on DIRT roads mind you, dirt that turned to red slimy, slippery MUD.  The day before when we entered this part of the trip where the road turned red, we naively thought it was "pretty".  Little did we know it would be our cursed enemy the next two days.  Needless to say, I wasn't too enthusiastic about taking out the camera this day and there is a gap in footage. We slipped along on this muddy, sloppy road in the rain for 13 miles (breaking my previous record of 8 miles in the rain), and then had to ride another 30 miles on a paved road.  The only bonus this day was the last 15 miles were all a fast down hill through a very beautiful canyon.  Unfortunately, Dan's bike had a mechanical problem in addition to the rain and mud which made the going even slower.  We eventually split up and I went on ahead to the hut because I couldn't go as slow as Dan with his bike problem.  After washing almost everything I had in my pack, the bike, and myself that night, and eating my soup with "grit" in my teeth, we turned in early in preparation to our next to last day, the hardest.

The sixth day was going to be the TOUGHEST, we had 4,000 ft to climb, which is quite a bit in 22 miles.  We were told that the local rancher often gave rides to the cyclists and we looked for him as soon as we arrived in the town of Gateway, (pop 65) on the Colorado/Utah border, in the middle of NOWHERE.  We thought the ride was a "sure thing" and were SHOCKED when he simply said he was "busy".  For about about an hour we thought we might just be stranded in Gateway for the rest of our lives!  It was a rude awakening shifting our gears from believing we were going to "get a ride" up the tough part (the first 7 miles where half the climbing is done) to thinking we were going to have to CLIMB the bloody thing.  Well, turns out, EVERYONE in this town was related to EVERYONE else, and the nice farmer/rancher that did help us with a tool for Dan's bike, told us he would call a friend he knew that went up the mountain each day for his job in the mine.  He told us that he would be by between 6-6:30 a. m. if he was going up.  We GLADLY agreed to be READY.  THOSE were anxious moments the next morning while we packed and looked for head lights!  It was about 6:40 and we were starting to shift gears into "ride mode" when the lights appeared, we were jubilant but that's because we had no idea what lay ahead for us!

We happily gave the rancher some cash for his trouble even though he didn't want it, we felt BLESSED.  We eagerly mounted our bikes when a local rancher came by and said they just saw a bear up the road a bit !  He assured us "he wouldn't bother us none" and we set off.  It was only about 7:15 in the morning and even though it was dawning a beautiful sunny day, it was still crisp.

Well, after about three miles or so (all up, because the remaining 14 miles were still up, just not as steep) we came to the Utah/Colorado border and things quickly declined.  Just as we were about to cross the state line, a rancher came by at about 40 miles an hour and proceeded into Utah and started to slide all over the place.  Dan and I  looked at each other and thought we might just want to walk a bit.  The beginning of the end.  As soon as crossing into Utah we sank about four inches into the thickest red mud that I have ever seen.  You could pick it up and make bricks with it (which I'm sure the natives did in these parts). Within about five minutes, literally, our bikes were so covered in mud that the wheels would not budge.  At that point we had to pick our bikes up by the front and DRAG them.  We trudged along at a snail's pace for approximately 2/3 of a mile stopping every few feet to catch our breath and pick mud off.  I'm sure the bikes weighed at least 50 more pounds at this point, if not more.  Dan joked about getting a picture (and I wish now that I had), but at this point I REALLY wasn't in the mood!  (Dan's ears will probably never be the same).  Occasionally someone would actually drive by (ranchers in pick-up trucks) and I stuck out my thumb; but they weren't stopping and I suspected they were actually laughing.  Another pickup was coming behind me and I weakly stuck out my thumb not even looking behind me because I was giving up hope.  Lo and behold two elderly (in their 70's) woman were on their way up to ride their horses and drop some salt off for their cattle and they felt sorry for us!  It took every ounce of strength I could muster to get my bike in the back of the truck, it must have weighed 50-75 pounds.  And I thought I was happy when we got that first ride in the early morning!  The "girls"  took us almost to the top, but most importantly out of the mud.  It was muddy like that for the ENTIRE remaining 14 miles and Dan and I just looked at each other so thankful because we KNEW we could have never made it all that way dragging our bikes.

Our last hut was up at the top of this pass, but we were "hutted" out and decided we could make Moab this same day if we hustled, civilization sounded very appealing.  We stopped at the last hut and proceeded to de mud our bikes which took the better part of an hour, topped off our water, dropped off the key and skedaddled.  We still had several miles of up hill to cover, but seeing that we rode most of the day in the back of trucks we eagerly set out.  After about five miles, maybe fewer, we started our last descent of the trip descending into Moab.  At this point things were VERY desert looking and we rode into a valley called "Castle Valley" (left). The entire rest of the ride that day my poor bike sounded like it was going to fall apart from all the mud and I crossed my fingers that we would really make it!  Boy did that burger and beer taste good in Moab.  Well, unfortunately the beer place was closed and we were starving so we went straight for a burger sans the beer.  After tooling around in Moab for a few hours and eating, we decided we could even make Denver this same night!  Can you tell we wanted to get home? We arrived safely around midnight and I was glad to see my bed and shower and now I have a very fun adventure to remember !  Do you feel like you were there too? 

Like I said, it was quite the adventure and I'm really happy I did it, but I'm not sure if I would do it again.... well, it would be a GREAT ride if you were to organize a small group and you had your own sag vehicle ..... any takers??