Porcupine Rim, Moab UT - Day 3

Some of the lads dropped the van off at the bottom of Porcupine Rim. I crawled into the tent to lie down. Helmets, gloves, damp sleeping bags and clothes lined the smelly tent, all covered in a fine patina of Utah sand. Sweaty and exhausted, I passed out as the rain tinkled on the tent roof.

“It looks like its clearing. Game on” I heard as I came to about an hour later. A scrabble of Shimano sandals on rocks as Randy dashed back to the cave. It began to hail!

I got up and joined Tim, Randy, Jerome and Aaron in the cave as we watched the sky begin to clear from the west like a giant windshield wiper.

“Which way are we looking” Tim asked.
“Well, West from here” Aaron responded.
“How do you know that” Tim pressed.
“The sun set over there last night” Aaron pointed out.
“So what are you saying?” from Tim. We all laughed.

We decided to push on with the planned ride of Porcupine Rim. Aaron shuttled the bikes up to the trailhead further up the road.

As we got out of the car, Mark came over and shared with us his chat with two other riders who had come past earlier. They had suggested we were crazy to go out in this, without lights too. I could tell Aaron vacillating. The Micro-Brew Pub was looking to be rather inviting right now.

Unanimous decision to ride. So off we pedaled. I battled. The first part of the 14 mile trail was up hill, up hill and more bloody up hill. My legs turned at the speed of metronome. Every time I turned a corner, there up ahead would be another series of ragged rocky steps going into another corner, and up!

“The up hill is almost over, and then it’s down hill ALL the way” was Randy’s coaxing chant. I began to disbelieve him.

Finally we got to the top of the world where the open plains below spread out like a tablecloth. The descent was down an extremely rocky road littered with rock striations and step offs. It was heady! Aaron and I rode head-to-head as we shot down. My bike was in its element and it felt superb. We each chose different lines, often crisscrossing one another. His bunny-hop leaps were a pleasure to see.

We entered the Wilderness Preserve Study area where the trail lost the rocky track and became a dedicated single track that hugged the side of the mountain. It seemed improbable that from this altitude we would somehow descend to the level of the river so far below.

The sun was waning now and the crisp mountain air whistled through my helmet. The last rosy gloss of sun painted the far side of the canyons.

Single file was made our way down the track which often had one leaping from rocky ledge to rocky ledge or teetering around a boulder with the canyon falling away to our right.

We came to one series of particularly challenging step offs, three large ones in total. I almost smacked into Randy’s ass as he came to an abrupt halt on the second tier. We dismounted and I whipped out the camera. Aaron came gracefully sailing down, in control looking icy pro! Mark came in. On the second ledge he was forced to turn tight to make the last step off. It unraveled fast and he fell hard. This guy is tough! “Did you get that picture” was all he asked me as he rolled upright.

The last few miles were a blast as I hurtled down with Randy. The sun was all but gone by now and I could see the oily darkness of the river coming closer now.

We swung onto the road to ride back to the van which Randy had left “just over a little hill.” It seemed likes miles, but finally there it was and we stacked the bikes on the roof in near darkness. The ‘klank’ (stench) in the van was almost unbearable now. I was convinced it was Randy’s old toe-jammed socks wedged into some crevice.

The hot water was sheer heaven. $2.50 with a towel for a shower at the Youth Hostel. In clean clothes we headed for Eddy McStiffs for gourmet pizza and jugs of Desert Wheat and Amber Rock Ale. That pleasant afterglow of extreme exertion coupled with a good meal set in.

No fire, no slide-show, just “night chaps” and we all crashed. A truly epic day of 30 miles of hard core riding.