• home
• philomorph
• doula
• family
  • adventures
  • San Juan Huts
    • Day 1
    • Day 2
    • Day 3
    • Day 4
    • Day 5
    • Day 6
    • Day 7
  • links
  • annual letters
• site

~40 miles :
from 8,200 ft to 4,000 ft


2,000 ft up


6,200 ft down

Day 7: La Sal Hut to Moab

The last day had finally dawned but it was not to be an easy one with another 2,500 feet to climb before our 6000-foot descent into the desert and Moab. We left our favorite hut at 9 am and were immediately confronted with two miles of uphill on horrible gravel before reaching Fisher Valley overlook where the gravel turned to tarmac. Various members of the group stood on the edge of a precipice for photos, which have turned out to be spectacular. Nobody jumped - perhaps because the next portion of our journey was a delightful four-mile descent on the road to the head of Castle Valley. There one road led on down to Moab and another up and over to Moab. You can guess which one we were destined to take. Yes, another six miles of climbing switchbacks in the sweltering heat.

At least we were still on tarmac, which made the climbing infinitesimally easier. Our Bible told us that a short downhill was to follow before our final climb of the trip. That short descent seemed pretty flat to me - I think the Bible was simply trying to give us false hope for the last day. Once the tarmac turned to gravel and my legs were aching, I got off and finished the climb on foot with my fellow cyclists peddling 1/2 mile ahead of me and waiting at the top. As we finally started down the other side after over two hours of climbing, I believed the tough part of the day was over but I was wrong. We turned onto a dirt track and stopped for lunch with views of Moab in the valley. Then our hard packed sand turned to soft sand and in some parts it was like pushing your bike through a mud bath.

Worse, the temperatures began to rise and I began to feel tired, hot and thirsty. The famous 6000-foot descent was interspersed with ghastly bits of uphill, which were even beginning to seem too much for me on foot let alone on my bike. The worst was still to come as we entered a canyon and had a bone rattling descent on rough ground, which I thought would never end. That is the only time in the entire trip that my good humor left me and I cursed Rob for not offering to take the road route with me (which incidentally would have been unbearably hot and also very unpleasant I'm sure). Finally we entered the slickrock domes of Moab, worth visiting between the months of November and March but to be avoided at all costs on June 9th after six long hard days of biking. I'm afraid I was personally unable to appreciate their beauty.

Our last few miles were back on tarmac, the heat rebounding off the road onto our legs. I was thirsty and had to scrounge water off Paul and Rob as I had run out by this time. Never have I been so happy to see our faithful Ford Explorer parked outside our driver's house. Without further ado, we loaded the cars, stopped at the first petrol station to wash and buy smoothies and sodas and other treats. The second half of "The Triffids" doesn't match the first but was a great way to pass the next five hours as we drove to Flagstaff to wallow in the luxury of the Little America Hotel and their magnificent steaks, excellent beer and too much wine.

Thank you Paul, Bitsy, Mike, Jessica and Rob for taking me on such an adventure and waiting patiently at the top of the hills. I can't say I loved every moment of it but I have no regrets and am proud of my accomplishment.