Into the Mystic: A Venture From East to West: A Haven Wherever My Encampment Is

I'm writing this from my sleeping bag, camped off of a backroad about 30 feet up from the pavement. I'm laying beneath the night sky, peering up at the moon hidden behind the haze of the cloudy Utah sky. The sun has recently recessed behind the 200-300 foot rock wall that stands authoritatively over me. I can hear the owls beginning to stir, the squeaking of the blind bats flying furiously about, the chirping of the crickets, and the occasional buzz of a passing (likely lost) motorist. Peering around at the trees, rocks, and dirt, I realize in this moment of peaceful solidarity with nature; I am perfectly content.

Despite going to sleep at the hotel dreaming of the continental breakfast, I woke up as it was ending at 9:08. I missed the waffles and pancakes... oh well. Plans of hitting the road by 9 were also dashed... by waking up at that very time. However, I did get to meet the family staying two rooms down.

The wife of Hawaiian descent asked if I was cycling because I didn't have a car. Upon my response, she eagerly got her husband Aaron to come talk to me. Aaron was probably 15 years my senior and had cycled the TransAm about 10 years ago. He was tall, thin yet athletic, and fit the average biker profile. He beamed when speaking about the trip, and we shared similar thoughts of the experience. The family was heading to Moab for the day.

I hit the road, mentally preparing for a pretty difficult climb but nothing I haven't done before... or so I thought. Talking with the clerk in the hotel lobby, I found that the elevation of the area sat at 5500 feet. When I got to the summit of the mountains leading to Boulder, there was a sign reading: "Summit 9600 feet". Okay, so the 6 hours it took me to go 30 or so miles wasn't in vain. I was noticeably more worn out and tired today throughout the ride but this led to many stops and brief explorations through unknown paths. With this sense of adventure, I was led to many beautiful and breathtaking views atop the "Boulder Mountains". I was in no hurry to leave.

However, it seemed like the mountain was not keen upon my slow, inquisitive voyage through its mysterious mounds. Thunderstorms, and dark clouds hovered over every few miles. At such high altitudes, rain is twice as common atop the mountains. One rainy, damp climb to 8000 feet would yield to sunshine on the downhill of 7000 feet. However, at the summit is where the rain started to come down hardest.

The steep downhill was slightly terrifying and bone-numbingly cold. In my poncho, I attempted the beginning of the descent but the painful slapping of the clumps of rain upon my face forced me to pull over. After waiting under the poor shelter of a pine tree for a few minutes, I decided the sooner I got to a lower altitude, the sooner the rain would let up. Tightening the poncho's hood around my head until a small window of vision was left, I pushed myself off. I didn't pedal one time for the next 10 miles into Boulder. At 9000 feet, the road resembled a flowing river and my brakes were being put to the absolute test. At 8000 feet, the rain began to let up and the path became more traversable. At 7000 feet, the road was all but damp in a few spots and the rain had all but finished. Curious drivers beginning the climb in the opposite lane gazed questionably as we passed each other.

In Boulder, I found the cheapest restaurant in town (which wasn't) and munched into my only meal other than breakfast. It seems, despite my best intentions, that I am still spending a great deal of money on food and treats. After every span of miles with no services, I enter towns itching to purchase a soda, ice cream, something. Perhaps it is the result of being raised in a consumer culture, my governmental purpose of putting my earnings back into the system that watches over me. I'm still attempting to overcome this "materialistic" urge or at least find other means by satisfying it (hunting? Walmart?).

This is my journal. These are my thoughts. I hope I don't live to regret sharing them with the Internet ;).