I left Santa Cruz Flats a day early to hook up with the Phoenix Multisport Moab Trip. I had already missed most of the Multisport Trip, but could make Saturday night and help out with a mountain bike ride on Sunday by leaving early.
It was a solid 9 hour drive from Casa Grande to Moab. The route went through some spectacular desert scenery in northern Arizona and southern Utah. Most of the drive was through the Navajo Nation, occupying an area of 26,000 square miles. There long straight roads stretched to the horizon where distant mesas reached skyward like huge ships in a sea of flatness.
Turkey Vultures Hanging on the Side of the Road
The Long Straight Road
Ships in the Sea
At Kayenta, AZ the route turned northward and I entered Monument Valley. Here the mesas grew from distant ships to towering castles that surrounded me from all directions. The two lane highway, strewn with RV's and tour buses, cut through the sacred landscape like a toxic serpent. I felt ashamed at my presence, hoping inside that I was somehow more enlightened than the hordes of tourists. The high desert is where I feel most connected to the land and is where I go to hit my spiritual reset button.
Monument Valley
Near the Utah border I stopped at a Navajo stand and played kickball with some local kids selling jewelry. They asked me what was on top of my truck and I told them about hang gliding. Maybe I planted a seed that will grow into a future pilot or two. I spent some time on the Navajo Nation when I was in high school and I remembered how friendly people were once you eased their suspicions that you were just another tourist. At Mexican Hat, UT I pondered jumping in the San Juan River, but time was working against me so I pressed on towards Moab.
The San Juan River
Mexican Hat
I made it to the campsite just before sunset. Jo rolled in just after I got there. After a happy reunion she went into town to shower and I rode out to Wall Street where everyone was climbing. After dark we all converged on the campsite, ate dinner and shared stories around the campfire. I was amazed at how big the trip was. There were over 60 people there!
Sunset at the Campsite
Marsh Mellows
In the morning I helped Jo and Mike who were leading a beginner mountain bike ride. It was a 7 mile out and back at Klondike Bluffs. In all my trips to Moab, I'd never ridden there before. It was a good trail to for people to learn Moab riding on with sand, slick rock, hop ups, and rock fins. On the way down Adam's derailleur broke and took out a few spokes on his wheel. The best option was to break the chain and turn it into a single speed. I didn’t think it would hold, but it worked and he finished the ride single speed style!
Beginner Mountain Bike Ride
Adam's Bike Converted to a Single Speed
After the ride we broke down the campsite, cleaned up, and had one last lunch. The only thing missing were Ben Cort, Cristi, and their new family, so we took an honorary photo in their absence.
Staff Lunch
It was a solid 9 hour drive from Casa Grande to Moab. The route went through some spectacular desert scenery in northern Arizona and southern Utah. Most of the drive was through the Navajo Nation, occupying an area of 26,000 square miles. There long straight roads stretched to the horizon where distant mesas reached skyward like huge ships in a sea of flatness.
Turkey Vultures Hanging on the Side of the Road
The Long Straight Road
Ships in the Sea
At Kayenta, AZ the route turned northward and I entered Monument Valley. Here the mesas grew from distant ships to towering castles that surrounded me from all directions. The two lane highway, strewn with RV's and tour buses, cut through the sacred landscape like a toxic serpent. I felt ashamed at my presence, hoping inside that I was somehow more enlightened than the hordes of tourists. The high desert is where I feel most connected to the land and is where I go to hit my spiritual reset button.
Monument Valley
Near the Utah border I stopped at a Navajo stand and played kickball with some local kids selling jewelry. They asked me what was on top of my truck and I told them about hang gliding. Maybe I planted a seed that will grow into a future pilot or two. I spent some time on the Navajo Nation when I was in high school and I remembered how friendly people were once you eased their suspicions that you were just another tourist. At Mexican Hat, UT I pondered jumping in the San Juan River, but time was working against me so I pressed on towards Moab.
The San Juan River
Mexican Hat
I made it to the campsite just before sunset. Jo rolled in just after I got there. After a happy reunion she went into town to shower and I rode out to Wall Street where everyone was climbing. After dark we all converged on the campsite, ate dinner and shared stories around the campfire. I was amazed at how big the trip was. There were over 60 people there!
Sunset at the Campsite
Marsh Mellows
In the morning I helped Jo and Mike who were leading a beginner mountain bike ride. It was a 7 mile out and back at Klondike Bluffs. In all my trips to Moab, I'd never ridden there before. It was a good trail to for people to learn Moab riding on with sand, slick rock, hop ups, and rock fins. On the way down Adam's derailleur broke and took out a few spokes on his wheel. The best option was to break the chain and turn it into a single speed. I didn’t think it would hold, but it worked and he finished the ride single speed style!
Beginner Mountain Bike Ride
Adam's Bike Converted to a Single Speed
After the ride we broke down the campsite, cleaned up, and had one last lunch. The only thing missing were Ben Cort, Cristi, and their new family, so we took an honorary photo in their absence.
Staff Lunch
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