December '02 Newsletter

The White Rim meanders through some of the most beautiful canyon country in Utah. Shorter days and considerably cooler, wetter weather made this trip very different from the one in May of 2001. That trip was dominated by participants who wished to ride their bikes most of the way, while this trip had more people taking advantage of traveling in the vehicles. Regardless, we still had two hard-core bikers ride the entire loop just as we did last time. Every Canyonlands trip is filled with lessons on desert travel and this one was no exception. While the high plateau deserts are frequently dry and hot when we visit, it can also be very wet and cold. People only survive there by being careful and respectful, but this is what makes the desert so captivatingly beautiful. One soon learns the desert makes its own rules. Anyway, to start the tale of the trip.

The weather was fabulous when we met in Moab, with the temperature in the low 80s, clear and dry. All the participants arrived without incident, but that was soon to change. Doug had heard that the Shafer Trail from the Island in the Sky Visitor Center to the White Rim was closed - which didn't exactly fit in with Bob's vehicle plans. He and Lou paid a quick visit to the Moab Visitor Center for verification and it turned out the road was open to bikes but not to vehicles. After tailoring our plans accordingly, one group shuttled our unneeded vehicles, with bikes for the drivers, to the Island-in-the-Sky and the other group headed directly to camp by way of the Potash road. The bikers picked up the permit at the park visitor center and left the extra vehicles in a long-term parking area on top. The trucks and trailers drove leisurely to camp, visiting dinosaur tracks and several petroglyph panels along the way. They set up camp quickly and the bikers arrived an hour or so later. The Shafer Trail was blanketed by a couple rockslides that most of the bikers had to carry their bikes through. During the trip down, Lou wiped out a couple times, sustaining a puffy hand and an enormous raspberry on his backside.

The next morning camp was quickly packed up and the bike and truck procession was underway by 9:00 AM. Wanda graciously volunteered to captain Darla's truck with the big trailer. The trucks waited at the junction of the White Rim Trail and Shafer Trail to allow the bikers time to get ahead. Unused to mountain biking, Deb, Darla, and Lou gave up early and finished the ride to camp in the trucks. During lunch at Musselman Arch, everyone posed on the arch to have his or her picture taken. Doug and Ernie biked down Lathrop Canyon to the river, adding another 8 miles to their day's ride. Later Joe took a load of folks down Lathrop, impressing all with his Land Rover's computer controlled four-wheel drive. In the late afternoon, a lone biker stopped by our camp to chat and bum some water. He was biking the entire loop in one day and had somehow missed his rendezvous with a group that had agreed to resupply him. When we informed him of the condition of the Shafer Trail, he was dismayed and soon back in the saddle. Due to the short days, dinner was often served at dusk and cleanup done by lantern glow. Again the day was beautiful, in the 80s and clear and dry.

We were again on the road by 9:00 AM, looking forward to another short 10-mile ride. Bob instructed everyone to look for a grove of trees at the next campsite. Well, another tale for the Book of Marley, to Bob the scrubby little lone pinion at Gooseberry camp was a "grove". More than half of our group hiked up the Gooseberry Trail to the park road above, enjoying excellent views as they went. Back at camp, recent rains had left many potholes filled with water, so we were able to take advantage of this for filling solar showers. A nice ridge below camp provided necessary privacy. Our pinion "grove" afforded welcome shade from another beautiful sunny day on the White Rim. Dinner wound down with a tipsy Darla insisting on painting the toenails of several of the men. The color chosen was a god-awful blue called Tommy Boy Blue, to which she added a baby-shit green smiley face. Must have been the moon, which was waxing toward full. Darla and Doug debated until late about sleeping out or setting up their tents. Finally, as the wind started Darla set hers up successfully, but it was too late for Doug, who had to beg space after the storm started and his tent was flattened. A nasty windstorm howled like a freight train from the rim to our camp, which resulted in dust and sand filtering into even the tightest tent; and then the rain and lightening hit. Lou and Deb's tent fly pulled loose, and all they could do was hold on for dear life. After ninety minutes, the storm passed, and Ernie was able to help Lou re-build their now soggy tent. The rain died with the wind and we finally all slept in peace.

When we awoke it was cloudy, with fog dropping off the mesa above but the sun finally burnt through about 9:00 AM. In hopes of drying some of our gear out, we had a slow start and left for the next camp around 10:00 AM. Several people were tutoring Darla on the mountain bike, and she soon declared herself an expert. The camp this night was White Crack, a very easy ride so we reached it by noon. Everyone helped set up the kitchen, we ate lunch, and then a group hiked down the Crack road to the canyons below. Others again took advantage of pothole water to shower. Dinner was served as the setting sun lit up the Needles and the Doll House to the south. This camp has about 270 degrees of the best views Canyonlands has to offer. The night started dry, but early morning saw the passing of another thunderstorm. Thankfully, everyone survived without getting wet. Having made sure their tent was well staked this time, even Deb and Lou emerged dry. Deb must have hauled a ton of rock up to the tent to hold it in place.

Again, we had a slow start because of the rain and necessary equipment drying time. When the rain stopped, we ate breakfast and broke camp. The sky was full of beautiful clouds, and there was fresh snow on the Manti LaSal range east of Moab. Although the western skies were ominous, the eight miles to Murphy Hogback were dry and uneventful. The climb up to camp was tough as usual. Wanda got Darla's truck up the worst, but then gave Bob the pleasure of driving the steep part. This campsite is beautiful - excellent views surround, arguably second only to those of White Crack. The group that camped there before us had an "unnerving" night because of the elevated exposure and frequent and proximate lightning. A couple of ravens kept us company through lunch, which was quick due to another rainstorm. This camp has a neat cap rock that we were able to huddle beneath. A particularly vicious storm moved to the southwest of us, leaving a great rainbow, ending right at the outhouse. While some of us read and napped, Bob, Darla, and Doug climbed to the Island in the Sky on the Murphy Trail, returning at dinnertime in a light drizzle. Finally another storm hit, but we had to eat, so we moved the kitchen under the cap stone and cooked away. I found it entertaining to see everyone trying to eat and simultaneously stay dry under that small overhang. As dinner finished, a couple we shared camp with at Gooseberry came through saying the road was closed by a rockslide ahead of us but the NPS was supposedly working on it. We hit the sack by 8:00 PM - with more rain bearing down.

The night turned out clear, cold and dry. As we were cleaning up for breakfast, a park employee came through on toilet patrol and we got the scoop on the road closure - Hardscrabble Hill was closed between Potato Bottom and our next camp at Hardscrabble Bottom. They'd worked on it the previous day, but stopped because of an injury. The NPS then called in a contractor to finish the job and they were expecting the road to be open today. Just to be safe, he called in and switched our camp to Potato Bottom (20 miles biking instead of 24, hurrah). The weather was great - cool and clear all day. Coming down Murphy Hogback, Lou did an end-o off his bike, fortunately just bruising a couple ribs. We ate lunch at the Wilhite trailhead, and continued on to camp. A couple who had been stuck there several days told us the road had just been opened. Bathing seemed in order, and a bunch of us headed for the river, which turned out to be an unscheduled nude group bath since there was only one place you could reach the water. Bob and Doug walked across the river, never encountering water deeper than 3 feet. That evening Darla continued painting the men's toenails; Ernie tried playing the plastic table leg tube. The night was again clear, cold but seemingly more humid.

The cook crew stirred up a hearty breakfast of pancakes and beer sausage. Then we headed up Hardscrabble Hill. It was tight with the trailers, but we got through. One of the abrupt early switchbacks was best negotiated with a tightly turned figure eight move in a direction that seemed exactly wrong. Most of the bikers walked up and then rode on to camp, stopping only to hike to Fort Bottom. After everyone reached the top, Bob and Scott forged ahead to the next camp at Horsethief Bottom. Suzy followed the trucks closely on her bike, and made it there within 5 minutes of their arrival. The rest, led by Sandy and Ernie, arrived about 2:00 PM, hungry and dusty and ready to eat. After targeting every puddle, Darla arrived elated and mud-splattered from head to toe. Joe took some of the group to see the Dennis Julian Inscription in Hell Roaring Canyon, while Darla and Doug tried to bathe in the mud along the river. Darla baked a scrumptious German Chocolate cake in the Dutch oven that night. The evening was clear and cool with a near full moon.

Doug and Ernie headed out early the next morning to bike up the Mineral Bottom hill, hoping to complete the 100-mile loop by returning to the visitor center. The rest of us took it easy; eventually loading all of the gear and bikes, and following them by 9:00 AM. We passed our two riders a few minutes from the pavement. After reaching the road, we split up our gear, said our goodbyes, and parted company.

Participants:

Darla Ekbom, Susan Groth, Ernie Hildner, Sandy Hildner, Joe Johnson, Bob Marley, Debbie Martin, Lou Martin, Doug Marx, Wanda Mattarocci, & Scott McCollough.