The OBS Grand Tourof Utah
To put it simply, the Grand Tour of Utah was grand. I had a wonderful time and it only took a week for my bottom to heal. Many thanks go to Ron and Anne Hitchcock and Gary and Suzanne Cannon for planning the tour and shepherding us through this great adventure. This was my first Grand Tour, but it will not be my last. Next time, however, I'll have the presence of mind to put on some bag balm on the first day rather than the third day.
Over 2 dozen OBS'ers started out from St. George, Utah on Sunday, June 22--about 1/2 of them sagging up to Enterprise, a little town about midway on our 93 1/2 mile route. The remaining dozen or so hearty and misguided souls--including myself--took on the whole route, including some of the most daunting hills one could imagine. Had it not been for Gwyn Hensley giving me some of her strange goopy slurpy power drink, I might still be out there under that beautiful Utah sky--bones bleached white. Actually, that would not have happened because we had excellent sag support. Jim Nelson drove a Ryder truck containing gear and lunch food. And Anne Hitchcock, Suzanne Cannon, Bonnie Kamp, Jean Messenheimer, Dave Edmonds, and my wife, Nancy, all patrolled the roads and picked up riders in need of help. For those who were able to plow on that first day, a wonderful l-o-n-g downhill encouraged us into Cedar City--our providentially placed destination. There we met up with the more reasonable folks who had sagged to Enterprise. It had been a great day, and the fact that I got to plant myself squarely over the air jet in the motel hot tub made it even better for me.
The second day took us from Cedar City to Panguitch, a nice little high desert/mountain town some 60 miles away. The first 20 or so miles were uphill and, yes, against the wind to 10,000 ft. Cedar Breaks National Monument, a beautiful preview of coming attractions for our arrival at Bryce Canyon National Park the next day. It took $2 dollars to get into Cedar Breaks and then a hard climb up an 11% grade to get out of the park area. But soon we came upon Jim and the Ryder truck with drinks, fruit, and sandwiches galore. Thoroughly stuffed, we navigated a stomach churning downhill to Panguitch. Rumor has it that some old guy named Hitchcock got his trike up to 51 mph. Then, two of our riders had an unusual "turn" of events.
Mark Smith and Cindy Taylor were way out in front of the rest of us when they followed the wrong Ryder truck down a death defying descent to the wrong town. But kindly locals sagged them back to the right turn from whence they too enjoyed the glorious downhill to Panguitch. Thus, they survived their sojourn to no-wheres-ville.
Ah, Panguitch. A lovely town with wide Mormon streets, a Mexican restaurant, a really neat barbecue place, many historical homes, and a totally stunning wildlife museum set above a gift and smoothie shop. Amazing.
The third day dawned bright and clear and we pedaled some 23 miles to Ruby's Inn at the entrance to one of the most remarkable and other-worldly places on earth -- 9,000 ft. Bryce Canyon National Park. We marveled at its bizarre rock formations chiseled by erosion, frost--and time. Words can't describe what we saw. You just had to be there. Because of our short ride, we had time to drive, bike, or hike in and around the Park. Everybody did their own thing. Indeed, you couldn't not do something right. There was so much to see and experience. If you have not been there, you simply must go.
The fourth day started with a nice downhill followed by a lovely rolling ride past meadows with glistening streams and uncomprehending cows and horses. It was on a descent prior to arriving in Mt. Carmel for lunch that we had our scariest moment. Gary Cannon was plummeting down a steep grade at over 45 mph when his binder bolt sheared off, leaving his handle-bars flopping about over his front wheel. Somehow--don't ask me how--he managed to get his bike under control, apply the brakes, and will his Trek over to the shoulder of the road. That left us all a bit bug-eyed, as you can imagine. At any rate, he earned his right to be sagged in to Mt. Carmel. But the bike riding part of the tour was over for him. From then on, he drove the Ryder truck, thus releasing Jim Nelson to get in 100 miles of riding of his own. After lunch, camaraderie, and watching some local women quilt, we left Mt. Carmel and immediately hit an absolutely inappropriately steep hill. Barely surviving that, we rode rolling expanses until we came to the tunnels of Zion National Park. The second tunnel was too dark, too long, and too dangerous for bikes, so we piled into cars, trucks, vans, and flatbeds and through the tunnel we went. Then back on our bikes for a steep, switch-back, hair-pin descent into the unique earthscape of Zion and on to the town of Springdale. It had been an 83 mile day. That evening, some toured Zion Canyon with its Weeping Rock, its Court of the Patriarchs rock formation, and the Narrows of the Virgin River guarded by rock walls over a thousand feet high. Others visited the CINEMAX production on a 6 story high motion picture screen for an awesome cinematic trip through time and Zion.
The next morning we pumped up our tires, and loaded up our vans, cars, and the trusty Ryder truck for the last time. Cameras ground and flashbulbs popped as we slung ourselves onto our bikes for the final 42 mile leg of the Tour. After zipping across a bleak yet beautiful desert, we entered the town of Hurricane. There we had to be sagged by the Ryder truck through several miles of road construction. Then back on our bikes to navigate a 4 lane highway, a bumpity series of hills and into the environs of St. George with its 105 degree heat. We had made it. And we found ourselves both happy and sad. Happy to have finished a 300 mile challenging, beautiful, and adventurous tour. Sad because...well, it was over. We all knew that after that evening's get-together, meal, and team picture, we would go our separate ways. We knew that we would see each other at an after-party later at the home of Curtis and Linda Nigh and we knew that we would likely see each other on future rides; but, we also knew that we would never again be with each other THERE--on those hills, on those descents, in those Parks. We could never again experience those particular hardships and joys in that unique environment. The Grand Tour of Utah was a kind of quicksilver experience. As hard as one might try to hold on to it, it would still slip through our fingers. Some things, I guess, are just too good to last. But we will always have the memories of Utah and of one another. We will always have those. And that will have to do until the next GRAND TOUR.
Oklahoma Bicycle Society:
Grand Tour 1997
created by John Wente
last modified:
February 19, 2007
URL: http://www.OklahomaBicycleSociety.com