I started pedaling the first of 30 miles toward Henrieville and noticed immediately that I was tired. It wasn't so much that I was tired as it was that my mind was in the gutter. Depressing subject matters blanketed my brain. After 15 miles of this and an inability to shake it, I pulled off to go meditate down by the stream I'd been following.
Ahhh, much better.
Climbing the steep wall back up to the road, my face brushed a sweet smelling green plant. I took some in my hand, brought it back up to my bike, and stuffed it inside my pannier bag along with my clothes.
On the road I felt noticably better. Within 10 minutes back on the road, I came upon a sign reading: "Scenic Overlook". Just beyond this was a post reading: "Summit 7600 ft." The entire way had been 2000 ft. of climbing and I was somehow unaware... that's probably why I was pissed. I road that sucker down at a blistering pace through sharp curves and canyon walls. All the way down to Henrieville. And then Canyonville, where I bought an orange. And then Tropic.
I stopped at a joint called "The Pizza Place" and got some pizza. There was a cyclist's bike out front. Inside, I met Trond (Tru-nd) from Norway. Age: 63, bald scalp, short, grey 5'o clock shadow, and a plump stomach. He was deaf in one ear, which may have explained how he talked to me for nearly 2 hours straight with no interruptions. He was a teacher back in Norway, and I felt like I was getting a lecture. However, the 2 hour lecture was on biking from Norway to Western Europe to the Middle East to India and eventually to Australia. At the end of his speech, I felt inspired and like I needed a nap. One thing I did say was, "Oh my heritage is Norwegian, I would love to check it out one day".
Boom. Trond was immediately writing his email and facebook down for contact if I ever wanted to cycle Norway... like the whole country... perhaps one day.
After Trond set off toward the East Coast (he was a month out of San Francisco), I went to go pay my waittress Ashley. To my horror, I couldn't find my CamelBack, which usually holds my wallet. It was nowhere to be found.
Retracing my steps, I called a shop in Canyonville (6 miles) to see if I left it there. I had. I told the young, blonde Ashley that I had to trek back a few miles to get my wallet.
"I'll leave my phone here so you know I'm coming back."
"You're going to bike back to Canyonville? Would you rather like a ride?"
"Well... Uh-yeah, that'd be fantastic".
So Ashley, who couldn't have been any older than the legal age to drive in Utah, terrorized the road for the 5 miles to Canyonville. I grabbed my backpack from the store and off we went back to the pizza place.
I had already broken the ice with Ashley so I started hitting her with the cultural/societal questions.
"Henrieville looks like a cool place to live. You guys don't have any stores or nuisances and it seems like most of the inhabitants are ancestors of the original founders."
"Yep", she replied. "My father's father is a descendant of one of the original members, so we are too."
"It's weird, I haven't seen a single black person or minority in Utah for like 600 miles. Is everyone here Morman?"
"I mean, pretty much. It's a nice religion, the people are all good to each other and have high moral values. What's your religion?"
The question totally caught me off-guard. I had no idea what to say. It pinned me.
"I-uh. I mean, I'm not a religious person. Like... I guess if I'm categorized under an established belief system... I'm agnostic? Like, I'm a spiritual person but I don't believe in organized religion."
I stumbled through my answer. It's funny, even hours later on the ride, I was pondering her question. It wasn't: "What do you believe?" It was: "What is your religion?"; my sector or community, the rules and morals by which I abide by. I thought about it for a long while after.
In the car, I delved deeper into the reasons why Ashley was a Morman. It was your typical, candy coated answer for religious peoples following the lines of, "I know God is out there, it feels right, I wanna help people, and when you're dead, it's sweet". I could understand.
Eventually, we made it back to the pizza spot where Ashley got really serious about why Mormanism is the right path of life and gave me a little story about a man in a bar of dead souls. God bless the kid for tryin to save mine but I'm more than content with my beliefs.
I paid my bill and upward I went. Up and up; past Bryce Canyon, past Panguitch and onto an old, dirt trail somewhere in Nowhere. Off the trail I went, deep into the woods until I came across a place that looked adequate for my encampment. I read for awhile before I lost consciousness.
In the morning, I got up at 6am to witness another colorfully arrayed Utah sky. I had a long ride all the way up to the peak of Cedar Canyon, about 10,500 ft. I was coming from around 6,500. Once again, it felt like that much. I did the first half of the climb before 930. About 3/4 of the way from the peak, I ran into an older sir by the name of Mick.
Mick was 62 and had ridden with my Norwegian friend through Nevada and much of California. We talked for half an hour about the beauty of the West, sleeping in the wild, the business side of Mormanism, and the oncoming places. Mick was a joy to speak with and he was loving his trip.
Shortly after talking with Mick, I met Travis. Travis was on his way up the mountain on a small speed bike, training for a 200 mile cycling day in September. He informed me that I was 7 miles from the top, and I threw him from the canyon. Well, I thought of doing it. I counted the next 7 miles to the top in painfully slow fashion until I was met with scenic views like you wouldn't believe.
I rolled right on through Cedar Breaks Park, passing vivid rock formations, colors and towering walls of chiseled history. It was 18 miles to Cedar City and almost straight into the depths of the canyon. Cars that passed me because I was a bike were barely able to stay on the road afterward because of their speed. It was ridiculous. I thundered into Cedar City in less than 30 minutes.
In the town, I finally got phone service for the first time in a while and found that one of my CouchSurfing requests worked. Andy had left me an email saying, "Oh dude you can come on over anytime you want. My door is open..."
Awesome!
Andy lives on a dead end street with three other roommates but the only one I met was Kim. Andy is 23, has long blonde hair, free spirited, and is reserved but when he sits down to have a conversation with you; it's a deep one. His roommate Kim is a larger than life 21 year old who talks a lot but always with optimism. He has a similar fashioned Mohawk like mine and is a little shorter and wider than the toned Andy.
When I got to Andy's house, I learned of 4 other CouchSurfers staying there: Adam from Israel, Monika from Italy, "Brazil" from Brazil, and Anika from Germany. An incredibly wonderful, curious, adventurous group. After less than 25 minutes of being at the house, we all went to a large lake miles away. A deep, endless mine shaft that had been accidentally flooded years ago. The water filled up the gigantic area and now there's a pool brimming with algae and fish. It was incredible.
I need to shorten these posts...
I hung out with the MS cyclists again, went to the bar with my CouchSurfing buddies, and had a splendid sunset hot dog dinner with Andy. It also needs to be mentioned in a crazy twist of chance, I met people who knew a mutual friend of mine from Cape May Court House. This friend had gone to school here for a year and I met some of her best friends from that time. They invited me back to their house and treated me like an honored guest. Cam and Adam; they were mah bais. Both also donated toward my charities without me even asking. Swell friends.
I got back to Andys... eventually.
Shortly after Escalante somewhere.
Some twisted rock formations outside of Bryce Canyon on my descent into Panguich.
I climbed a tree in my woody haven to get a better view of the sunset.
Lake Panguich
Overlooking Cedar Breaks Park: picture by a couple named Jim and Stacy from Las Vegas. Jim was probably the most enthusiastic person about my trip that I'd ever met. The guy made me feel pretty special.
Another overlook around Cedar Breaks.
Swimming in the mine shaft.
Andy taking a selfie on my phone.
Cam and Adam!
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