We’ve had plenty of bike tours in really fun, somewhat far flung places, but the truth is that southern Utah has some of the best riding anywhere; thanks to the proliferation of old roads that – for better or worse, depending on your perspective – were hewn in the quest for oil and uranium back in the day. Their industriousness – again, for better or worse – enables our ability to do surprisingly-big rides in surprisingly rugged terrain, with mostly unsurprisingly-beautiful views. There are a few routes down there that have great connector roads/highways that enable big loops; highway 12 that goes from Panguitch to Torrey and then beyond to Hanksville on highway 24 is probably the best, but there are critical backcountry road connectors too. Notom Road, Smoky Mountain road, Hells Backbone road, and Cottonwood Wash road are great conductors.
But one of the best – and rugggedest – of these key connectors is the Lockhart basin road, which stretches from the northwestern base of Hurrah Pass above Moab to the highway that heads into the Needles District of Canyonlands. From Moab to Needles it’s 60 miles, with easy-ish riding for the first 20 miles (going either direction) and 20 miles of steep, rocky, sandy terrain in the heart of it. It’d be easy to call it a White Rim lite because it’s less than 2/3 the length of the White Rim loop and essentially uses the same layer of white sandstone, but it’s a fair bit slower and has some sections that are only passable by the gnarly jeeper folks (vs the White Rim, which can be done in a truck or even a SUV) so there’s less opportunity for formal or informal “support”. And that support usually comes in the form of water, of which there isn’t a drop on the route.
Lockhart is the key connector for the “Peaks and Plateaus” route that someone posted on bikepacking.com that is a 170 mile loop south of Moab; we have been looking at doing something like that using Lockhart and the Needles highway for a while but hadn’t done the research to figure out how to loop back to Moab, and when Ash found that route on bikepacking we decided to give it a go. And we had the opportunity for company: Seldom Seen Geoff Lane has been building a cool house in Moab so we haven’t been able to do enough adventures with him, but he had a window of time to join on this one, and our great ski and running partner Derek Gustafson surprised us by wanting to join on this trip, despite not really being a bike guy and never having done a tour before, but he’d heard lots of tales of bike trips from us on trail runs, and even though this was a challenging route with long days in the saddle, Derek’s as tough as they come and we knew he’d be fine. And we were so excited to have bike tour pards!
Most of the West has had a very mild fall so far, and it was gonna be a bit more than “mild” in southern Utah, with temps topping out around 90. This made me a bit nervous, because I have a bit of a history of melting in the heat, but last year we did the Oregon Timber Trail in a heat wave and I was pleased that I did okay, and being that this is the “end of summer” I was fairly well acclimatized to the heat (as opposed to a hot May trip a few years ago where I melted) so I thought I’d be fine. We rolled out of Moab at first light in cool temps, carrying over a gallon of water each and kept the pace very mellow up and over Hurrah Pass, and all was good, though the sun felt pretty intense.
Slow and steady was the deal; we “had” to make it all the way through Lockhart to the Canyonlands highway and the Needles Outpost (a small store and campground on the outskirts of the park boundary), because that was the first place we were certain of getting water. So even as we rolled along steadily and were having fun, we all knew that we were a bit exposed out there and couldn’t afford to have any major problems.
We had a coupla flats that slowed our progress a little, but not bad, and we started climbing up and away from the Colorado from the “hole” near the Colorado at Chicken Corners. We also bumped into some folks who had just sent off a motorcyclist on the Lockhart Basin route with a zillion clothespins and blue and pink flagging; they were marking the course for the famed Moab 240; a running race that’s happening this “weekend” (Oct 11-14); it has a 117 hour cutoff time; I’m not even good enough at math to know how many days that is, but it’s a lot! We got into the techno zone, and found ourselves pushing our bikes a fair bit, which Ash and I were accustomed to after doing a trip a few weeks ago on super rocky tracks above Crested Butte and Aspen. It was slow goin, especially as the sun beat down and knowing that we still had many miles to go. As it heated up I started drinking water, was still whizzing pretty well, and felt good, but still kept the pace slow and social to try to keep the heat to a low sizzle.
Not surprisingly, the most rugged section of the trail is also the most beautiful, and we had not only great company to keep each other entertained with tales but also huge views out across the vastness of Canyonlands. Slowly the rugged double track started to get less sandy, less rocky, and the climbs a bit less intense as we saw the telltale spires of Needles off in the distance, but…..I started to slow down. I still thought I was decently hydrated, but then my calves started twitching, and I tried to get more fluids and more electrolytes in. The usually indomitable Derek was also slowing, and the crew started to talk about possibly splitting up so that someone could get to the Needles Outpost campground before the drop-dead check in time of 6pm. I wasn’t too in favor of splitting up, nor was I in favor of at least me “going on ahead” because….I couldn’t go any faster. But as Derek and I slowed, Ash and Geoff gradually pulled away and Ash told Geoff to just keep going while she waited for us.
Getting closer to the highway and a mellower road enabled more roadside camping, and at the bottom of a steep climb a nice couple had just set up camp when we rolled in, looking for some fluids. They gave us some water and -hallelujah! – a coupla cans of cold coke. Somewhat better, we carried on for a few miles to where Ash was waiting, then took off again, but Derek was falling back as Ash carried on. As I climbed probably the last little hill before hitting the pavement my hands were cramping and my calves were now dancing, and at another little roadside camping couple’s site I stopped to look back for Derek, who was not in sight. The nice folks asked if I was okay, and I said well, I could use a little water, and as she was bringing it over to me it happened; both my inner thighs locked up, and I started staggering around howling and trying to keep from collapsing in agony on the hard ground. About this time Derek wobbled up, threw his bike down, laid down in the road with his helmet as a pillow, and…..started puking all the water – and Coke – that had (not really) been sustaining him. We posed quite a dramatic scene for this nice couple hoping to enjoy a nice evening together!
Turned out that the woman has run a fair number of ultra marathons so they were both familiar with this kind of carnage, so they got us into chairs in the shade, gave us more water, and very slowly we came back….a little bit. They said “the campground is 6 miles away” and I think my eyes pretty much rolled back into my too-hot brain; I had gone from “feeling fine” to “I can’t ride 6 more miles!” Our benefactors saw this reaction and immediately offered to throw our bikes on their truck and drive us there. We took ‘em up on that, and as he hoisted the bikes on we got into the truck, where he’d already turned the AC to “ice”. We drove literally less than a mile to the pavement to where Ash had been patiently waiting – and getting chomped by late-day gnats – and when she saw our bikes on the back of the car coming at her she immediately jumped on her bike and took off, knowing that we were getting some help.
We arrived at Needles Outpost a few minutes after 6:00, where Geoff had just gotten in before they closed and – in a fest reminiscent of his Great Divide Race a few years ago – had thrown down $80 on 4 gallons of water and a ton of shitty but delicious junk food, which we started mowing into, and were grateful to be at the campground, with showers, and with WATER.
The next morning we started spinning south/east through the Indian Creek area, en route to an anticipated (easier) 50 mile, 5000-foot day. The first 20 miles was basically flat, paved spinning and I felt….terrible. Once again, Derek and I started slowing, and we realized that despite lots of water and plenty of calories and a good night of sleep, we had dug a bit too deep the day prior and hadn’t recovered overnight.
So at the nice shady Newspaper Rock – notably at the base of the climb up and out of Indian Creek and into the full force of the sun – Derek and I decided to bail. Which was not a gimme; most of the traffic was heading into the park and not out, and at the highway it was kinda 50/50 as to folks going south towards Monticelllo (bad) or north towards Moab (good(). But it seems like kind of an incomplete bike tour without one needed and beneficial hitched ride, and this time a beat up van pulled over with a young climbing “dirtbag” who was going south but….”If you got some money, I’ll go to Moab!” That’s why I usually carry some cash on bike tours! We stuffed our bikes in, and for the next hour we had a great time with Alex, who was so excited that Derek not only worked for Black Diamond but is the climbing line manager!
Back in Moab we feasted hard, hydrated, and rested, then had the thought that it probably wouldn’t be too difficult to go our and find our friends and camp with them! So we headed back out into the backountry – this time in the trusty Beige Forester! -and started tracking them via looking for bike tire tracks, stopping at possibly spots they’d have stopped at (including a random burger truck at a mini mart in the micro hamlet of La Sal), and got a text saying they were still on the route. We followed their tire tracks into the junipers, and suddenly there was Geoff with his trademark “Ahoy!” The band was back together, just as darkness was falling.
After a bit of catching up on the rest or our respective days, we heard the telltale growling of a side-by-side rinding towards us. No big deal, until….they drove straight into our little camp! Usually this means trouble, but this time….they had a flat, and needed a jack! As it turns out, the trusty Beige Forester not only had a jack that had just barely enough range to get their rig up high enough to get the wheel off, but also the Forester’s lug wrench happened to be the right size for their lugs. I think those folks need to start following the #beigeforesterlife hashtag…..
The next morning Geoff and Ash were keen to ride, Derek and I were not, so while Ash and Geoff finished off the route (on their own variation to the published route; in lieu of climbing Flat Pass, they went up the La Sal Loop road and then descended back down the Sand Flats road, for another 50 mile/5000’ day) while Derek and I ran up Hidden Canyon. And both the bikepack route and the Hidden Canyon trail we continued to see the pink and blue markers for the Moab 240….another 60 miles farther than “we” (Ash and Geoff) rode over three days, and on foot!
While Ash and Geoff rode, Derek and I did have a great little run up into Hidden Canyon….
A good adventure, albeit a hard one for Derek and I, and another reminder to be wary of big efforts in the heat, though no doubt I – at least – will do it again….
Thanks again to Geoff and Ash for being patient with Derek and I and to Derek for being game enough to give it a go; I hope he comes back for another bikepack adventure in cooler weather!
OMG.
Yeesh.