Utah'kin To Me?

First task of the day, The Hogback.

The Hogback is a stretch of road threaded atop a sharp ridge with immediate and deadly dropoffs on either side. From the road, all that is visible is the edge of the pavement and the next ridge twenty miles away separated by a crevasse. There is no shoulder, there is no margin, there is no room for error. A deviation from this road would mean certain death for any vehicle, especially a bike. Here we go.

Luckily, it's mostly downhill in my direction because as steep as this road is, I would probably be wobbling my way up from the other side. This way, I can keep my fingers securely around the brake levers and glide down. The good thing about being on a razors edge over oblivion is that if I do mess up, I won't have to live with a disability or endure any broken limbs. It will all be over pretty quickly- after the two thousand foot free fall of course.

One of the most depressing things that occurs on these roads is turning a corner and seeing the road ahead of you wind up the side of a mountain. Often the curves reveal behind them the next few miles of road which can be a welcome or dreaded sight. After working hard for a few hours, the last thing I want to see is another five miles of steeper climbing ahead. But I am the idiot that wanted to bike across the US, so this is what I get.

I have noticed that the German tourists cover the same ground that I do, so our paths cross multiple times a day and for a few days at a time. I keep seeing the same people, and by now they recognize me and wave each time we pass. I feel a bit like a celebrity. I am part of their story now. When they tell people about their trip to America, they will mention the crazy bike guy they kept seeing. They are all much nicer than any Americans I have met so far, so I enjoy bumping into the Germans.


A few smaller mountains today. Nothing compared to yesterday. I easily made it to the top of the last one and could hardly believe it was over. At the top, there was a little bike path running parallel to the road, so I took that and it turned out to be one of the funniest experiences of the trip.

The bike path was just like a miniature road with dotted yellow lines, little road signs, funky critters scurrying across the way, and trees along the edge. I felt like a giant cruising down this little junior-highway. After almost three thousand miles of real roads, I felt like a little kid trampling through a model train set as I took up an entire lane and leaned across the other on the tight curves. The funniest part was the little signs, though.



Wierd observation: As much as I enjoy the scents of nature, it occurred to me that most things that smell good shorten your life, like cake, candy, fancy cigars, women, sizzling red meat,
...cedar trees?

Boulder to Panguitch was 98 miles. Made it in great time and ready for another tough mountain to Cedar City.

Location:Panguitch, UT