Road Trip: Moab

(April 27th, 2007)







I pulled into Moab last night and was surprised to see that it's an actual town. Well, it's a little tourist destination town, but it's a big step up from Cedar City. I decided that I should check out the town for at least one night and pulled up to a little motel for the evening. As I lay in bed, I started planing out the following day (today): rent a mountain bike and check out Slick Rock; walk around town in the afternoon to soak the touristy atmosphere; and finish the day by driving out to Arches National Park where I'd camp for the evening. Things didn't go quite as planned.

I managed to rent a mountain bike without much of a hassle. I asked if I should bike to the Slick Rock trailhead (about 3 miles away) or just drive over with the bike in my car. The girl helping me with my bike recommended driving out, she claimed it was a hilly 3 miles. Another employee nearby looked at me and said, "Nah he's young and fit, he should suck it up and bike out there!" I was somehow impressed by his speech and decided to pedal out. The first mile is pretty flat and I was feeling good until I ran into a sign that said: "Slick Rock Bike Trail: 2 miles ahead. Fee required." Note the emphasis on "fee required." I didn't actually bring any cash with me, so I turned around, biked back to my car and grabbed some cash.

I was running slightly behind my imaginary schedule so I decided that I'd wuss out and drive up. I cleared out the back of my car and went to take the front wheel off my bike when I realized I didn't know how to get the wheel off. Now I haven't mountain biked in a few years but I feel like technology hasn't changed too much. But I had no tools in my little back that would fit any whole near the center of the wheel. Upset and a little embarrassed, I wasn't sure what to do next. The logical thing would be to go back across the street and ask them how to take my wheel off, but I'm stubborn. So I opted to hop back on my bike and make attempt number 2.

The second attempt started off better, but I soon realized that the girl wasn't kidding when she said there were some tough hills. I was quickly sweating, panting, and moving very, very slowly. After about 10 minutes I realized that I'd actually need some energy when I got to the trailhead. So I reluctantly turned around again, biked back to the shop and sheepishly told them I had no idea how to take care of the bike.

But not all is lost! The girl looked at the front tire and confessed that she didn't know how to do it either! The shop owner came over and said, "Oh someone put the wrong pack on your bike, you're missing some pieces. And it's really hard to get the tire off, I'd recommend against it." Awesome. Glad I learned this here and not on the trail. Anyway the guy showed me (well us) how to take the tire off, but he also threw in a free bike rack rental for the day. Problem solved. With the bike firmly attached to the back of my car I was finally ready to see what Slick Rock had to offer.

Slick Rock is a beast of a trail. At 12 miles long it doesn't sound too bad, but it can easily take 4 to 5 hours to do the loop. And that's 4 - 5 hours of intense riding. In fact, by the end of the run my cheek muscles were sore from grimacing. You grimace as you fly down steep rocks, trying desperately to keep your hands and feet connected with the bike. And you grimace again on climbing back up the impossibly steep rocks, willing just one more pump out of your legs.

The entire trail is on large rocks, and getting up and down them can be impossible. On average you probably stop every 2 or 3 minutes to get off your bike, push it up a rock, and hop back on. There were a couple of rocks that I could barely push my bike up. Some of the steep pitches have a small crowd hanging out around, catching their breath and watching veterans try to get all the way up the top. One of my attempts ended in near disaster as I fell backwards off the bike (yes, that's how steep it is). Fortunately I managed to get my feet down first and one of the locals complemented me on my stylish "downhill dismount."

I didn't take many pictures at Slick Rock, as you really don't do it for the views. That's not to say it's an ugly place, you just don't have much time to take your eyes off the constant onslaught of rocks, any of which could quickly turn an awesome day into a hospital day.

But I survived in one piece and made it back down to Moab with plenty of time to cruise Main Street before driving up to Arches. Moab is a nice town, pretty much like any other tourist town. However, allow me to complain about something else: 7-Eleven. I am a huge Slurpee fan, so much so that I can't get some knock-off brand at your local corner store. Coming back from Slick Rock I was hot, sweaty, and just dying for a Slurpee. Had they held a Surpee auction in town I may have paid three digits for a Coke Slurpee.

But alas, there is not a single 7-Eleven in all of Moab. How is this possible? Park City has a ton of 7-Elevens and it's below freezing half the year! My friend Peter from Canada claims that Winnipeg, Canada is the 7-Eleven capital of the world. Again, it's freezing most of the year there. In Moab it's over 80 degrees today and most of the summer it gets up over 100. But is there a 7-Eleven to be found? Of course not.

In an attempted to drown my sorrows in cold goodness I ended up getting two scoops of chocolate ice cream and a "berry nirvana" smoothie. Both were excellent and temporarily placated my desires. But make no mistake, I will be stopping at the next 7-Eleven I see. But for now it's off to Arches National Park.