Western Express Day #10 Hanksville, UT to Singletree Creek, UT
Western Express Day #10
June 10, 2021
Hanksville, UT to Singletree Creek, UT - 60 Miles
Start 8:24AM, Finish 8:15PM
Ride Time: 8:38
Ascent: 5124'
Descent: 1034'
Tour Total Miles: 657
I slept great in my tent last night pitched in the green grass at Duke’s Slickrock Campground and RV park in Hanksville. I had a few too many beers before I went to bed, and didn’t manage to zip up the tent all the way. It remained warm throughout the night, and I didn’t use my sleeping bag. I had run an extension cord into the tent from an adjoining RV site and all of my devices were charged by morning. I woke up with the sun, and could tell it was going to be a warm day. I packed up quickly. It was windy in the campground, and I went next-door to the Slickrock Grill, which opened at 7 AM. I had two eggs over-easy, bacon, hash browns, toast, and two orange juices.
At the adjoining table I met eastbound cyclists Ricky and Alissa from Paducah Kentucky. They were doing the Western Express from San Francisco to Pueblo and then taking the Trans Am all the way across. Alissa was traveling on an E bike that had a maximum range of eighty miles, so they were doing fifty mile days. They were taking an off-day today before the big 140 mile desert crossing. They mentioned the bad wind and said that it would be better tomorrow. I gave them all my information regarding the 140 mile crossing and the US50 construction. Alissa shared her notes with me. They promised me that I had beautiful views ahead. Ricky and Alissa had left San Francisco on May 17th.
I lathered up with sunscreen and put on my UV protectors. I was wearing my cycling shorts and short-sleeve jersey. I didn’t see the need to carry extra water today. I emptied one of the store-bought water bottles into my rack-mounted bottles and dumped the other at the base of the tree in my campsite. I crossed the Fremont River, which I would be following upstream until Torrey. The river had a little bit of flow, and I noticed a small dam with some water behind it.
The package containing my shoes, backpack, and dress shirts arrived safely in Brooklyn today. It was really windy out on the road. I was on State Highway 24 headed west. The shoulder wasn’t as good as yesterday on Highway 95. In addition to traveling alongside a river today, I also had utility poles and wires to my right. There were still no fences here, as it was open range. The land was filled with sage brush, dust, and huge craggy canyon walls with piles of sand and gravel where the walls met the ground.
I passed a cowboy rustling his cattle from his horse. His faithful dog was helping him. The wind today was out of the southwest, and I had a headwind. At mile marker 108 I passed an old stone house that was missing its roof. There was a chain-link fence around it. Two miles down the road and along the river, I passed the ghost town of Giles, which was now an RV encampment.
I heard from Crazy Guy reader Martin, who did this ride a couple years ago. I love it getting positive feedback and encouragement from readers. The wind was strong and kept blowing me off the side of the road. I finally had enough with the helmet brim, and pulled over to remove and stow it.
There was a small shopping cart icon on my paper map. Mesa Market offered organic coffee and baked goods, but it was closed. A couple miles down the road I passed the Luna Mesa Cafe, which advertised free Wi-Fi. It too was closed. There was a new looking hotel in Caineville, and I didn’t see any activity. On the far end of town, a tractor was mowing the other side of the highway. I didn’t see the point because there wasn’t much growing.
I passed Cathedral Valley but didn’t stop. I was climbing a long hill and battling a headwind and a bare chested east-bounder with orange Ortlieb panniers came flying down the hill. I stopped to say hi, but he kept going. I shouted, “You’re a real friendly guy!”. I’ve had TransAm racers stop to chat. What was this guy’s big hurry? Kind of stupid, really. I could have shared valuable information. Whatever. Enjoy your downhill and tailwind dude.
I crossed over to the north side of the Fremont River and then had a big climb up through a rock cut on the other side. It was a steep ascent, coupled with a headwind. There was a lot more motor traffic on the road today. The wind was so strong that I was doing everything in my power just to keep moving forward and stay on the road. Finally the road curved which shifted the wind direction.
I ran into east-bounder Ted from Billings Montana who was riding from San Francisco to Yorktown. He was 72 years old and had recently retired. He had sold his business and revealed he was going through a midlife crisis. This was his first bike tour, and he told me that the canyon that I was about to enter was extraordinary. He mentioned road construction on Highway 12 out of Torrey, and said that the big pass on Boulder Mountain would be tough from my direction. Ted was staying in hotels and had left San Francisco on May 15th.
Riding into the canyon, I had the Fremont River immediately to my right. It was about 20 feet wide, clear and flowing. I definitely thought about taking a dip, and I saw a small waterfall and pool which was tempting. There were signs posted that read 'Danger, No Trespassing'. I entered Capitol Reef National Park and rode underneath Navajo Dome.
I crossed back over the Fremont River and stopped to visit Hickman Natural Bridge. I had known about this before the tour. With all the bridges I’ve crossed, it’s comforting to have at least one named after me. It was about a mile hike and strenuous for many of the other tourists. I remarked to many that I thought it had a really good name.
Continuing down the road I entered the Fruita historic district. Early Mormon settlers had created fruit orchards here, and some still exist. I spotted a mulberry tree in bloom and stopped to stuff my face. They were plump and ripe, and so good! The fruit orchards were fenced off, and I didn’t spot any fruit. I stopped to look at petroglyphs that were attributed to the Fremont Culture, which existed here from approximately AD 600 to 1300. I passed the old Fruita school and more fruit orchards.
I stopped at the visitor center for some water but it tasted funny and wasn’t cold. I had eleven miles yet to Torrey. The highway left the river valley and climbed up onto a ridge. It was a steep climb combined with a strong headwind. The shoulder was lousy and there was lots of traffic. It was demoralizing. I was expending an incredible amount of energy to barely move forward. A motorcyclist slowed down and shouted, “So, do you like the wind?”.
I eventually crossed Sulfur Creek and could see businesses ahead, including a large Teepee. The Capitol Reef Resort offered horse riding tours. It included the Rimrock Inn and Restaurant. There was a hotel on the other side of the highway with as bar and BBQ joint, but I wanted to get closer to Torrey.
I finally stopped at a gas station and poured myself a ginormous Coke on ice at the soda fountain. I gulped it down and poured numerous refills. I purchased some trail mix and talked with the clerk about the wind. She said that it was particularly bad today, and urged me to spend the night in Torrey. I went out front and sat down at a table. I took off my shoes and socks. I could barely get phone service and tried to pull up a wind forecast. The motorcyclist who has passed me earlier approached and apologized for his sarcastic remark. He said that the winds were 40 miles an hour today. I finally got the Windy app to load and could see that the wind was blowing from the west. My route after Torrey would take me south east, and the wind would most likely work in my favor. I got back on my bike and climbed the last mile. The clerk had promised me that a Subway would be there. The wind continued to blow, but I was invigorated. It had been such a hard day, and I had only ridden 45 miles.
Next to Subway I spotted Wingstrands, which advertised grass-fed burgers. I ordered a cheeseburger, chips, and two large Cokes. After my meal I filled up my water bottles, and continued forward. I got on State Highway 12 heading south. I immediately saw the construction work that Ted had mentioned, but it was after 6 PM and there was no activity. I was heading southeast and had a cross wind that was blowing at my back right hip and shoulder. It seemed to be blowing somewhat in my favor. I saw signs saying ‘Roadwork Ahead. Expect Delays’. They were repaving the highway, and there was brand new asphalt and no pavement markings.
I was on Scenic Byway 12, 'An All American Road'. The next town with services would be Boulder, 35 miles away. In between here and there I had a 9600’ pass. I saw a small wooden sign that said elevation 6000’. I crossed back over the Fremont River and would be leaving it behind as the climbing began.
I passed the flute house, a Native American outfit that was open. I was enjoying the brand new pavement and there was virtually no-one else on the road. I was slowly climbing and passed the highway storm gates, which were open. I could hear Carcass Creek to my right. All of a sudden, pine trees began to appear, and soon they were everywhere. It was a steep climb but I had a crosswind which made all the difference in the world.
I could only pedal three to four miles an hour because of the grade, and a fly was in my face driving me crazy. I finally killed it but knocked my rearview mirror out of alignment. I rode past Grover without even knowing it was there. No population had been listed and there were no services. As I got closer to my destination the sun began setting behind the trees. It was pleasantly cool and I reached the other side of the construction zone. After the torturous day, it was finally a nice ride.
Nearing my destination there was no wind at all. I reached a flat area and saw a deer in the woods. It stopped to watch me and perfectly blended into the trees. Eventually it hopped away. I love to watch the springing prancing behavior of deer. I reached Singletree Creek campground and rode in to look for a site. The campground was nearly full, including a large boisterous group of teenagers. I talked to the camp host and was told to go to campsite two. I set up my tent, and bathed underneath a spigot. It quickly got cold and I retired to my tent where I edited this report.
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