I packed my things and checked out of my room the next morning. Since I had planned a trip through the Pariah Canyon with Brent, I had since purchased permits to go through on those days. After calling the BLM-Pariah canyon department inquiring about any refunds or rescheduling, I was rudely informed that there were NO refunds, and any rescheduling would be slapped with a $30 fee. The permits only cost $20! Since I had already paid my money, I went anyways. I took wire pass to the Buckskin trailhead, and went down into the slot canyon. There were a few people on their way out as I passed on through. In about 40 minutes I encountered my first puddle in the Buckskin. After some debate, I had decided to trudge on through anyways. It was only calf high water, but it was rather chilly. My boots were rather waterproof, therefore keeping all the water trapped in my boot. Puddle after puddle, the length and depth kept increasing. Soon, It became silly to even roll my pants up, and just let them down after I encountered near waist high water along one stretch. Later the water pockets seemed to dissipate, and the canyon opened up. I went through that section at a near trot to make sure I didn’t spend too much daylight in the canyon. The Buckskin closed up again, and winded along for several miles. Curiosity kept me going after I should have turned around, but I kept going even through another section of deep-water pockets. Eventually I turned around, and was spooked by a raven’s song resonating within the canyon walls. After a long hike, I got back to my car and headed north towards Damion’s house in Spanish Fork.
I arrived in Spanish Fork around 11pm, and Brent arrived with both KTM’s about an hour and a half later. We chatted, then fell asleep in the living room. The morning we said our goodbyes to Damion’s family and departed towards Moab. First we made a stop at Rocky Mountain shop to pick up some motorcycle gear. Helmet, armor, gloves, pants, etc. Since we didn’t really have a specific adjenda we made a stop at Nine Mile Canyon. Took the KTM’s off the trailer and went for a ride. It was rather cold, and we had to traverse many miles of slick compacted dirt road to get to anything interesting, so we eventually turned around. With only a few hours of daylight remaining, we made our way to Moab, and tried to take the bikes up and over the mountain range adjacent to Arches NP. The sun set as things got difficult, and we went back to the car. I made a few calls to some hotels in Moab for a place to stay. We ended up at the Best Western, and ate Chinese food next door that evening. The next day we returned to the site visited the evening before to reattempt getting up and over into Arches NP. We took a wrong turn and went above on the ridge overlooking some old mine site. Got back down, found out where we needed to go, gassed up and blasted along through. We encountered a BLM ranger guy on a mountain bike, and resolved any concerns we had about riding our KTM’s up a bike trail. We were fully able to ride up. It was awesome. We went up and over the ridge, and descended down to Arches NP. Along the ridgeline, there was a crowd of mountain bikers who seemed rather bitter of our lack of effort in rapidly ascending the steep slopes it took them 30 minutes to climb. I got some dirty looks, and I decided not to park the bike and take pictures at the summit in fear of falling victim to an angry mountain biker mob. Once in Arches NP, we cruised up the road in search for interesting places to visit. It didn’t take long for a ranger to stop by and ask us questions about our motorcycles, AND our lack of permits. We told him we’d return to pay our fees with borderline sarcasm. We went up the road to check out the jeep trail towards tower arch. We cruised along the road, and parked at the trailhead there. It was a short little hike to the arch, and we ate lunch there. A few people looked puzzled as to why two guys in flashy motocross pants were hiking around, when it took them several hours of hiking in the hot dust to get to the same destination. We explored a bit, and got back on the bikes. We returned the way we came, except to go up and over the ridge, we decided to take the BabySteps trail. This mountain bikes only trail was recently opened up to motorized vehicles on two wheels. NICE. It was excellent. Lots of interesting singletrack and spectacular views. Got back to the car, loaded up the bikes and went back to Moab for some cushy camping in a hotel. That night we simply grabbed a Motel 6, since everything else was full for the night due to a biking convention that weekend.
Saturday we went out to the Gemini Bridges trailhead. Quickly we visited the arch, and continued on down to the Gold Rim trail. This jeep trail twisted along some exposed slickrock and amazing terrain. After a few hours and a few tricky steps, we made it to the actual rim overlooking northern Moab. We heard mechanical banging, scraping, and alloy yield stresses approaching in the distance. Several jeeps were in a line coming the other direction on the trail. We took off in front of them to avoid having to breathe exhaust and clamber around at a snail’s pace. We also saw a few mountain bikers in the same area. When we reached one tricky spot, I flooded the tank, and the jeeps caught up. With my electric cooling fan working overtime, the electric starter wouldn’t go due to the stresses on the battery. Eventually we made it and flew back to the car. That evening we got a hotel, grabbed some cookies and chocolate milk, and crashed.
The next day we had decided to go check out the Soverign trail network. It was a bit warmer that day, so my KTM was having some issues with the goofy electric fan on the radiator. Brent and I clambered up the trails and along the plateau. From here we explored a vast area, and covered a lot of ground. We ended up going up and around near Arches NP again, but from a different region this time. The most scenic and interesting section came at the last little bit during our return. We hit up some of the single track that we came up on mountain bikes a few years back. These switchbacks were intense, and rather tricky to negotiate. It just got better throughout the next while. The single track extended a long ways, taking us up and over several rims and ridges. The lighting was excellent, and we eventually made our way back to the car. Along the way my engine was sputtering, and I just stalled the bike near the trailer. I still had the reserve though.
Monday we spent a few hours working on my bike in adjusting the valves. I met a guy in the hotel parking lot who I worked with out in Amarillo, TX. In a few hours we had finished working on the KTM, and were about to get it loaded when we got a phone call from a friend in my fraternity, informing us that they had arrived at the campsite, and were about to head out towards Elephant Hill. We left Moab, and headed south towards Canyonlands. Upon arrival at the Elephant Hill trailhead/parking lot, we unloaded the motorcycles, and were about to go on up. We encountered a short, angry looking park ranger woman. She snapped several questions at us as to WHY we had parked over where we did, and questioned the legality of our motorcycles which clearly had license plates on them. She demanded, “are they street legal???” After pointing out that they were, AND showing her the license plates, she then took it one step further and demanded, “well, are they HIGHWAY legal???” When the unpleasant encounter ended, she seemed to stammer off in absolute disgust. That made me smile. I met up with the frat brothers, and we started on up Elephant Hill. I had a few issues with my bike, and I assume it was due to my recent valve adjustment, and the possibility of getting dirt or something else inside the cylinder. Eventually we made it up and over, then made our way towards the Confluence Overlook. The two jeeps stirred up quite a bit of dust, so we had to make sure to keep in front of them. The views were spectacular with the low angle sunlight. This was slightly ominous since we didn’t want to go over Elephant Hill in the dark. We made a quick jaunt out to the confluence, snapped some pictures, then ran back to the bikes, and flew down the road back towards Elephant Hill. There is an incredibly steep section on that side, and provided some difficulty in ascending, but we managed to get across, load the bikes, and depart just as we saw two jeeps creeping down the slope. The bitter ranger lady had left us a nasty little note on the windshield, but since there was no ticket or penalty, it was quickly discarded.
That evening we arrived at the Wind Whistle campsite in the dark, and set up camp. The guys returned and cooked food. Brent and I snacked on food and some soup. Got a good fire going, and jabbered on into the night before climbing into the tent. I awoke about 3am by intense winds tearing away at my tent. There were only a few inches of topsoil (sand) in which to anchor the stakes, and a few came out easily with the fierce wind. Therefore, my tent collapsed on me, and flapped rampantly in the wind. I slipped my sandals on, then scampered dressed only in my underwear looking around the tent for large rocks illuminated by the moonlight. After I found a sufficient amount of weights, I got my tent back under control, and slept. In the morning I got the fire started using the coals from the night before. This was easier because Brent had stacked all the burning coals into one pile before going to bed. After people woke up, there were plans brewing as to what hike we’d do that day. The plan was to take the 2 jeeps, leave one at Squaw Campground inside Canyonlands NP, and take the other jeep over Elephant Hill to the Joint Trailhead. The group leaving the Joint Trailhead would go into Chesler Park, descend down into the canyon and up to Druid Arch, then ascend up and over Ladder Pass, and down to the Squaw Campground. The second party doing the reverse route would meet the first somewhere in-between, and swap car keys. Brent and I had a side trip planned. We went along for a ways up the Joint Trail, but then broke off and tried to find a way into Virginia Park. We were unable to find the upper route, and instead followed some tracks and trails down a ridge to the wash below. From there it was a cakewalk up the ramp into Virginia Park. We were then scolded by a sign, which informed us that any entry into V.P. was prohibited. However, we didn’t plan on going “in” the park, as much as up on the shoulder where we could soak in views, and take a few high-resolution photos of the area. The day was pretty warm, and our water supplies were about half of what we should have brought with us. Brent and I agreed not to eat any of our salty trail foods, since digestion would demand more water out of our system. Throughout the remainder of the day, we carefully rationed our drinking supplies. We hoofed it back to the Joint Trail, and scooted on through Chesler Park. By the time we descended down to the canyon bottom, we heard voices of the guys from the Nu chapter. They had just met up with the others, had exchanged keys, and were about to leave. We shared our experiences briefly, and departed. Once again I noticed that there was only a few hours left of daylight. I urged that we quicken our pace. As we ascended up towards Ladder Pass, I realized something. I had hiked this particular section of trail two times before. Both times, we ran out of daylight before reaching camp, and I didn’t have a flashlight. This time was no exception. Luckily, this group I was with moved with surprising speed, and was able to keep up. We managed to take several breaks when needed, especially in places that demanded we soak up excellent low angle sunlit views. There is a fork in the trail, both of which lead to the Squaw Campground. One way goes nearly straight up to a ridgetop, and the other lazily slumps down into the creek basin. I have been on both forks, and the best way by several orders of magnitude, is the straight up way. From up high, we move on down another gulley with much better views, and excellent trail terrain. Amazingly enough, our rapid pace got us to the campground right as twilight was fading. We had enough ambient light to fill our water bottles at the spout. I believe I drank a full quart, then filled my bottle again for the ride to our campsite. We all were rather trashed, and sore. We inhaled some food when we arrived at camp, got a fire going, and several people went straight to bed. I became somewhat concerned not hearing back from the other party. I remember hearing that Mac wanted to go back the other way back opposite from Elephant Hill. This way is listed on maps as being impassible when wet. Though, it was rather dry and hot. As the night continued on, we generated a rescue plan. Brent and I would get on the motorcycles in the early morning with gasoline, and water in our backpacks. We would then travel up the road Mac and his group was coming down. We then could see what their condition is, and help them out. However, around 1am the group arrived back to camp. I was awaken by hearing excited voices talking about numerous close encounters with death etc.
The next morning we broke camp and departed the Canyonlands. Brent and I still felt like we needed to do some more riding before returning to civilization. Some of the trails in and around Tusher Canyon had perked our interest when we were down there the year before on mountain bikes. We parked just a few hundred feet from the highway and suited up. Our approach was to head south and meet up with a jeep trail that ascended to the top of the rim. Once there we cruised along the high vista before going towards the “Monitor and Merrimack” rock formations. We met and talked to some other bikers who were in the area, and let them have a glance at the map we were toting along. Later we saw some jeeps struggling along a steep rock face along the trail. It looked intimidating, but the motorcycles didn’t even flinch. It was quite exciting, so we had to turn around and do the segment once again before heading out to Tusher Canyon. We blasted on through the basin and along jeep trails. There were two jeeps ahead of us that were creeping along some rocks. Brent and I passed them going about 35mph over jagged rocks and drop offs. We snaked around the area along various dirt roads in a recon, looking for any future “mancation” sites. Eventually we came across a jeep trail labeled “3D”, and we followed it for a long ways. It dipped up and over into some interesting slickrock avenues. We traveled along that road for miles until we passed outside the bounds of the map we had. Brent and I stopped at a rock outcropping and had some stuff to eat and drink. Instead of backtracking, we thought we’d try and find a more interesting way down. We simply traversed along the rim of the canyon, and it appeared that it may eventually go where we needed to go. Indeed, as we went further along this little unmarked single track, we noticed that it most likely would take us down to the wash below. However, the trail got incredibly scenic, and dangerous. There were some extreme dropoffs to one side that were mere inches from this narrow single track, leaving little or no room for error. Both of us were in “survival mode” and completely spaced the opportunity of taking pictures of this place. It’s a bummer too, because it was quite something. Eventually we plopped back onto the jeep road below, and headed back to the car. From there we picked up my car at Damion’s, then headed to SLC and had dinner with Bryan, Trevor and Brandy. That night we crashed at the McEntires and left that morning for Kent, and arrived that evening.
During the week that I was home I busied myself with taking a motorcycle safety course which led to me getting my endorsement. Thereafter, getting my NEW company car, a black 09 Chevy Equinox. Then it was crucial to place a trailer hitch on the thing so I could tote my KTM around with me! I was also able to goof off with family, and go riding near Ravensdale with Jaime, Emma, Andra, and Brent. All too soon, I had to leave back to work in Colstrip, MT where the blizzard conditions nearly blew my car off the slick roads.
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