A week in the life on the road in America’s wild West

I’m in Moab, Utah on a rest day after seven days of hard riding. It is the longest stretch between rest days of the whole tour. A challenging one. We’ve ridden 856 km and climbed a total of 7389 m. We froze in the night and early mornings as temperatures dropped to as low as two degrees Celsius and baked by mid-day as the mercury climbed to the mid-thirties. My days began at five in the morning working in the dark to decamp and to be on the road by first light.

We started out in Jackson, Wyoming, rode into Utah, out of Utah into Colorado and back into Utah. We cycled down long, lonesome roads in the arid high desert. Stops to replenish water were few and far between. Three of the seven days were close to 150 km. Those also happened to be the days with the toughest climbs. Our camp sites were basic, sometimes only with pit toilets and no other facilities. In the thickness and hardness of the week lay a gleaming nugget of joy, in the act of the journeying, in the strength to push the pedals for kilometer after kilometer, and, most of all, in the immersion in the harsh, startling beauty of the world about us.

Day One Jackson to Warren Bridge Campground  88 km, 940 m climbing, elevation 2281 m, saddle time 4 hrs.

We ride out of Jackson on Route 191 along the Snake River through the rolling hills and forests of the Bridger Wilderness. Within a few hours we’re rolling into the high desert.

I’m at camp by noon after only four hours of riding. A very short day. We set up our tents among the sagebrush. There is no shelter from the sun which by now is blazing.  Luckily, the camp ground is adjacent to the Green River where I go to soak myself and my bike kit.

Day 2  Warren Bridge to Fontenelle Reservoir 116 km, 428 m climbing, elevation 1989 m, saddle time 4.5 hrs.

I team up with Charles. He emigrated to Canada about twenty years ago but retains traces of his South African accent. He took up cycling by happenstance. He was out walking in his neighbourhood and chanced upon an old Peugeot bike on a lawn with the sign, “Free”. He took it, had it fixed up and went on his first ride. 80 km. He was hooked.

We’re a good match in pace and attitude. It’s the first time I find myself really comfortable drafting. This is good because over the course of the next few days we have our fair share of head wind.

We’re on Route 189 traversing the high desert. In the distance we can see a series of low rising hills.  We stop for a cold drink at Obos…