Hidden Valley Trail, Moab. No ranch, no dressing

A few miles south of Moab, the Hidden Valley Trail is a quick hike to Moab rim which is a great spot to look down over the town and get oriented (or "orientated" as many say).
This trail connects to the heavily traveled Moab Rim Trail, a favorite vertical test for offroad Jeeps, mountain bikers and hikers. This part of the trail, however, is a single track open only to hikers and mountain bikers. It traverses a Wilderness Study Area as well, cautioning people to stay on the trail.






Not far up the trail, I spotted this lizard. Can you spot it? These little guys are quick, so I was surprised it waited long enough to be photographed. Does anyone know why lizards do funny little "push-ups" all the time?

A few hundred feet beyond the lizard spotting, these three guys flew past me, running down the trail. I eavesdropped on their conversation, "What did you think of that salmon last night?" "Great man!" "I think we outta get some more of that and do a little steak with it tonight." "Yeah, and some fresh greens and roasted peppers and..." out of earshot. Maybe they should open a restaurant.

In the photo below I wanted to show this view of the Slickrock trail area. This lies to the northeast of Hidden Valley Trail. The low, yellow-ish rocks are partially in shadow, and just above the valley floor. This famous destination hides above town, ready to demoralize even the most balls-y and skilled bikers and motorcycle riders. The first time I rode this trail, in 1989, I actually cried. Even though I'd ridden a mountain bike many miles and could clean some technical sections... this place was wicked challenging -- both mentally and physically. I never miss an opportunity to remind people the trail system was created in the 1970s by motorcycle riders, not bicyclists or hikers.

Here is a shot over my shoulder of the valley floor. Moab is to the north, my left.

At the top of the trail, it flattens out and eventually connects with the Moab Rim Trail, to the north. This is the end of the trail for me today. I headed back into town to collect my belongings from my friend's house (including my bicycle) and start the long drive back to northern Utah.

Why go to Moab to ride a road bike?

I never though I would arrive in Moab without my mountain bike, but for the fourth year in a row, here I am... with my road bike. This weekend is the annual Lance Armstrong Foundation Skinny Tire Festival, a fundraiser for cancer research and a chance to bicycle for a cause.

The thing is, there was a time when I sneered at road bikers because they opted for "easier" rides. And that's partly true. Now that I ride my road bike between 100 and 200 miles a week, I tend to not do headers over the bars in technical drop-offs. I don't have sore wrists at the end of a the day. I no longer have moments of panic while looking straight down a slickrock section where the track disappears over the rock edge like a sickening roller coaster drop.

I'd never dare admit that I prefer road biking most days now because, well, it's easier. But I miss the solitude and beauty that lays itself out during a mountain bike ride. Off-road feeds my need for quiet and renewal. Road biking feeds my need for serious calorie-burning and mindless sweating.
T
oday's ride was to the top of Dead Horse Point, a few miles north of Moab. Here are a few ride stats, according to my Garmin Edge 305 (not the newest, trickest unit, but it works):

Total miles: 62
Total elevation gain: 3,520 feet.
My average heart rate:143
Total ride time: 4 hrs 3 minutes
Total calories burned: 2723

The unexpected treasure today was looking at the La Sal mountain range to the East and the Henry Mountains to the west as I rode along the ridge to Dead Horse Point and realizing Torrey would be visible from here if it weren't for the mountains. So what? I don't know, but it may have something to do with Bob being in Torrey.

I don't know who the people in these photos are, but they didn't seem upset to be in my viewfinder. Therefore I don't have permission to post these photos, officially. So they are unofficial.

Phipps Arch - Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument

March 12, 2009

Destination, Phipps Arch.

Location, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.

Phipps Arch towers over Phipps Wash, which drains into the Escalante River. Its location is tricky to find, especially if you don't bother taking a map or have great directions. In the above photo, the arch is on the far side of the wash, which means we will have to climb down about 200 feet. And back up again. Twice.

Today's adventure includes my friends Laurie, Joel and Trigger, the most photogenic of all Border Collies I have ever seen. Especially since he's an Australian Shepherd.

Joel brought his GPS unit along, and luckily it was of little help directing us. Because when I go for a hike, bicycle ride, motorcycle ride or any kind of journey, I always find wonderful unexpected treasures when I'm not focused on the destination, not constantly checking a map and not in a hurry to arrive.

Today was one of those days.

The first thing I found was this arrow point, just lying on the sand. Laurie and Joel had hiked right past it. It's still there, somewhere. Happy hunting!

We hiked due south from the parking area on Highway 12 (between mile posts 71 and 72) and should have angle farther to the east. Instead, we arrived at the rim of Phipps Wash about a mile from the arch. It was a lucky mistake because the hike along the rim had lots to explore. Piled-up red sandstone surrounded terraces of white sandstone.
We played on the hard, smooth surfaces and enjoyed lots of sandy areas in between the rock sections. This area has loads of cryptobiotic soil (not "probiotic or "diabet-iotic" as certain people suggested), so we were careful to stay in the washes or on the rocks. Crypto soil takes centuries to repair itself and is critical in preventing erosion and providing plants a fair chance at putting down roots.

We found the narrow trail to the canyon bottom after a few minutes of scouting for the best route, and Joel noticed this excellent rock statue of HR Puffenstuff. If you liked that silly children's TV show, I'm sorry for you.

We crossed the canyon bottom and found the trail up the other side. This trail is not for anyone who fear heights or doesn't like heaving themselves up over steep cliff wall. The farthest you can fall is only a few hundred feet and if your brain doesn't like this kind of exposure, this is not a hike for you.

The area surrounding the arch is a fabulous playland of red sandstone. We enjoyed lunch at the best table in the restaurant.

We hiked back down and decided to go back a different way. There are secret things to be found on this route and I hoped to be able to find them to show Laurie and Joel. I have been sworn to secrecy about these things, and am not allowed to disclose anything about what they are or where they are. Sorry. Do the hike and keep your eyes open for all unexpected and unusual things. Perhaps you will be lucky.

Here, I am finding a handhold so I can boost my butt up this smooth section. Just behind Trigger is a deep water tank covered with a skim of ice. We cant' tell how deep the water is, and it would have been impassible if someone hadn't dragged a log across it. You can see the top end of the log in this photo.

Just after we had all scrambled up this section, I walked across the log without any problem. Trigger, however, couldn't wait and simply jumped into the water tank, broke through the ice and furiously began paddling. Without hesitation, Joel leaned over and plucked the soaking wet dog from the water. "Time to throw the dog" he said with a grin and scooped Trigger up and heaved him across the water tank. I grabbed his fur, but the dog launched into a fifteen-minute dance of joy and glee. He raced across the sandstone in one direction, spun around and raced back across, leaping and twisting all the way. We decided that Trigger was celebrating his first flight.

This photo is after Trigger's flight. He's still a bit wet, but most of the water is on Joel and Laurie.

On the way back, we missed the parking area by about a half mile and wandered along the side of Highway 12, where we found a pile of "Moki" ball -- perfectly round rocks made of an iron compound. One was broken in half, exposing the layers of iron inside. They truly look manmade.

The entire hike of approximately 10 miles took about 5 hours, which included many wrong turns, at least 30 minutes of sitting and contemplating and a few minutes messing with the GPS.

This hike has all of my favorite features -- a deep wash, indian artifacts, interesting rock formations, crazy vegetation growing from impossible crevasses and secrets.