Utah Adventure Week

Utah Adventure Week (Oct. 11-Oct. 19, 2008)

This past October I was lucky enough to get a week off from my teaching obligations at the University of Utah for fall break, and since my brother Fras had a bunch of vacation stored up we thought it might be wise for him to visit so that we could conspire on a week of adventure. Fras had been to Utah once previously on a bouldering trip, but there were a number of gaps in his Utah resume that we needed to fill, including slot canyons, mountain biking, and trad climbing. This week also happened to be the week of my 2 year wedding anniversary, but my lovely and accommodating wife gave us the green light to plan adventure week nonetheless. I picked up Fras at the airport on Friday night, and after coming back to our place for some fish tacos we headed to bed early to rest up for the 9 days of adventure that we had planned.

Day 1: Cyclocross in Heber City, 482 km transfer south to Gooseberry Mesa

On tap for the first day was 45 minutes of condensed suffering in the form of a cyclocross race. Fras had not done any cyclocross races since he was a junior back in Ontario, and despite not having fond memories of that experience he gamely agreed to participate. We had watched the SNL "More Cowbell" skit on youtube the night before, so we were sufficiently motivated as we packed up the car and rolled out at 9:00am for Heber City where the race was being held at the fairgrounds. As we headed east on I-80 the weather was shaping up to be perfect for cross: there was winter storm warning in effect, and it was snowing pretty hard as we crested the summit of Parley's canyon. Maybe a little too perfect. However, as we continued south from Park City the snow tapered off, so it was just wet but not snowing. Perfect! We did a few warm-up laps, then lined up for the start. I was called up for a front row position since I had done the first race of the series the week before, but when the rest of the field rolled up old Fraso was caught off guard a little, and ended up at the very back of the field. The gun went off, the cowbells started ringing, and off we went! I was in the front group of three for most of the race and ended up finishing second, while fc ended up pouring on the power to work his way past the entire field and finish fourth. Not bad for his first cross race in 10 years! If he had been on the front row for the start then he would have been in the lead group with us, which would have been super fun. This boy is a big cyclocross talent for the future, just wait until he gets a cross bike (he was riding my hardtail KHS mountain bike). After the race we drank the hot chocolate that we had brought in a thermos and cheered for the next wave of racers, then once we got too cold we packed up the truck and blasted back to Salt Lake City.

After a lunch of fish tacos we spent the afternoon packing and scheming for our next days of adventure. We had originally planned on spending the first few days around Salt Lake City, but the inclement weather, while good for cyclocross, was not so good for the rest of the activities we had planned so we decided to head south. We finally got the car packed up and ready to go at 6:00pm, and rolled out, headed for Gooseberry Mesa which is near Zion National Park in Southwest Utah. Here is a shot of our two protagonists ready for the grand depart:

The drive went well for the first 150 miles or so, but at this point we ran headlong into a crazy snow storm. It was snowing super hard with really bad visibility, which made for 30 miles of slow and tense driving, with Fras looking out the side window to tell me how close to the edge of the road we were since the headlights created a whiteout effect with the heavy snow looking out the front. Finally the snow abated and we made better progress, rolling into Gooseberry Mesa around 12:00pm. Luckily there wasn't much snow here (we had dropped in elevation from where we encountered the heavy snow) and it was a beautiful clear night with a bright full moon. We got the tent set up (as shown below) and then crawled into our sleeping bags for a cold nights sleep.

Here is a map of the 482 km transfer that we made from Salt Lake City to Gooseberry Mesa (aka the goose):

Day 2: Mountain biking on Gooseberry Mesa, 216 km transfer south to Las Vegas, Sport climbing at Red Rocks

After a pretty cold night's sleep, the sun woke us at around 8:00am. I rolled out of bed first, here is a shot of lazy Francis just lounging around in bed, just frittering away time that could be spent riding the goose. Notice the frost on the tent, and the valiant PT in the background.

We had a satisfying breakfast of cold, stale bagels with frozen nutella shavings while soaking up the first rays of the morning sun and savouring the view of Zion national park to the north, and before you knew it, BOOM! It was time to go ride the goose! This was the great thing about adventure week: Fras and I are both on the same page when it comes to dividing our time between high adventure and the other necessities of life; high adventure wins out every time. Neither of us are ever going to suggest that we hang out and brew some coffee, make a nice warm breakfast, or have a relaxing start to the day. No way, no how. Roll out of bed at 8:00am, slam a cold bagel, change into our action suits, and off and riding by 8:15am. Blammo!

We mounted our bikes and set off on the south rim trail of Gooseberry Mesa. The riding here is super fun, some sections of slick rock with fast and sandy singletrack mixed in, and lots of short ups and downs and technical sections. The views are also spectacular. Here is one of me cruising the slick rock with the sandstone walls at the mouth of Zion visible to the north:

Here are a couple shots of us climbing some of the short and steep slick rock sections, it is amazing what gradients you can ride up on slick rock. Similar to the better-known slick rock trail in Moab, the trail is demarcated by white paint when it crosses long slick rock sections.

Here is one of Fras cruising past some of the local flora (yucca plants, cactuses and juniper trees) on the left, and on the right one of him using his north shore expertise to air it out over one of the drops on the trail:

In some spots the trail comes pretty close to the rim of the Mesa, which has quite a drop off the edge as shown by Fras posed in this photo. Don't ride off the edge here!

We continued west along the south rim trail to the westernmost tip of the Mesa, which drops abruptly and has some great views. Here is a panorama that I stitched together from that spot:

We then continued back east along the north rim trail with a few diversions and extra loops, making it back to PT (purple truck) by around noon for a great 3.5 hour ride. Here is a shot of us together, savouring the great morning ride:

With the morning's ride over, it was now time for our next transfer, so we loaded up PT and headed 216 km south for Las Vegas, where the sandstone climbing of Red Rocks awaited us:

We completed the drive without incident, and after stopping at a grocery store for some food, arrived at Red Rocks. We had planned on doing a multi-pitch trad climb called Frogland that afternoon if we had time, but we didn't get to Red Rocks until around 3:30pm, so we decided to go sport climbing at the Gallery (second pullout) instead. This worked out well, since we had the next day to do a longer trad climb, and Fras had never been to Red Rocks so it was nice for him to sample the sport climbing as well. Here are some shots of us headed for the Gallery:

When we arrived at the Gallery it was pretty busy, so we started by doing a bunch of the short 5.10s to the left of the steep section. These were fun, but we were both feeling a bit tired from the ride in the morning. After a while most of the people left except for two guys, one with a rasta hat and the other who apparently was his young protege, a rasta-in-training if you will. We talked with them a bit, and it turned out their names were Chris (the rasta) and Joe (the protege). When we told them our names, Chris the rasta thought Fras's name was "Craze", so he became known as Craze to us (the rasta will hereafter be referred to as Craze). Craze was pretty outgoing so we spent a fair bit of time in conversation with them. The lead off exchange to our conversation went like this:

Craze: Are you guys from Canada?

Cam/Fras: Yes.

Craze: Can I ask you guys a question?

Cam/Fras: Sure, Craze. Go right ahead.

Craze: Do you feel free in Canada? I mean, really. Do you feel free?

Cam/Fras: Ouch, Craze! Did you have to start out with a hardball? How about something easier?

Craze liked talking about politics, so we spent some time discussing the upcoming elections, and the merits of socialized health care. Partway through our conversation Craze had to excuse himself to go light up a spliff, like any self-respecting rasta would (Joe followed obediently and brought the reggae-blaring portable stereo). Anyways, they provided some good entertainment for our afternoon of sport climbing. Craze was a strong climber, but we never saw Joe make it past the second bolt of any of the three climbs that he tried to lead (despite reassurances from Craze that he could do it), so Craze had to finish all of his climbs for him. After doing 5 of the 5.10s Fras got on Yak Crack (a classic 5.11d) and came pretty close to the onsight but then pumped out at the top. I followed it to clean it and by this time it was getting dark so we bid Craze and Joe adieu (Craze responded by screaming "Right on! CANADA RULES!!!" at the top of his lungs) and headed for the strip.

We had booked a $28 hotel room at the Stratosphere, which is one of the older casinos at the north end of the strip. After checking in and making a long walk through the smoke filled casino to find our room (while passing slot machines with such scintillating titles as "Hundreds of Wolves"), we relaxed briefly in our room before heading out to find a Las Vegas Buffet, which I had assured Fras was the highlight of any trip to Sin City. We originally tried the buffet in the Stratosphere, but it was some sort of strange steak and seafood night, so we headed out to find a more suitable buffet in another Casino. Here is the view looking up at the Stratosphere itself, from outside our hotel:

After walking south for a while we happened upon the Sahara Casino, which had a bunch of advertising for it's buffet so we headed in there. We were a bit leery when it didn't look as busy as it could have been, but we were hungry so we pulled the trigger and bought our tickets. The buffet ended up being a little bit lacking. Some of the less notable dishes on offer were: breaded scallop pucks (but not real scallops), something labeled "fish", and vault energy drink. I guess next time we'll have to stick to the classier casinos. By the time we finished at the buffet it was almost 10:00, and we were in debate as to whether we should continue south on our tour of the main part of the strip, or just head back to the room since we were pretty tired. Fras had wanted to see the Luxor Hotel (pyramid shaped hotel with a light beam coming out the top), so I proposed the compromise that we could go back to the hotel room and I could draw him a picture of it, but on further consideration we decided that wouldn't have the same effect, so we headed south on our tour of the strip. It wasn't very busy in the northern part, in fact some spots were totally empty except for us and a bored security guard, but we persevered and it picked up a bit as we got down towards the Bellagio. Here is a picture of Fras and the lights of Las Vegas Boulevard:

As we passed each hotel I informed Fras of what the attraction would be, if there was anyone there and the show was going on (e.g., sinking ship show at treasure island, erupting volcano at the mirage, etc.). We reached the Bellagio just as the last fountain of the music show was going off, a fitting end to our ill-fated tour the strip's main attractions. At this point we had been walking south for about 45 minutes, so we swung it around and headed back north for the Stratosphere. It was also quite cold out due a storm system that was passing through and Fras had only worn a T-shirt, so we had to take turns wearing the red long sleeve shirt that I had brought (in the photo above it was Fras's turn to wear the shirt, lucky!). We arrived back at our hotel just before midnight, and collapsed into bed for some well-earned rest.

Day 3: Trad climbing in Red Rocks (Frogland), 216 km transfer north to Zion National Park

We had originally planned to do a really long climb on our full day in Red Rocks, but upon examining the guidebook at 12:30am in our hotel room after our tour of the strip, we realized that some of the climbs we had targeted (Levitation 29, Black Orpheus) had approaches in the 2-3 hour range, and would require us to get up by 5 or 6am to ensure completion. We elected to go with something more manageable that would allow us to get a full night's sleep, and decided to do Frogland, the 6-pitch 5.8+ that we had cancelled from the previous days agenda. This one had a much more manageable 45 minute approach, and allowed us the luxury of sleeping in until 8:30am. We got up and headed back towards Red Rocks, stopping along the way for a tasty breakfast of fresh pastries. After some dirt road navigation we found the correct parking lot, and after we had finished racking our gear we posed for a Huber brothers shot before heading out at 11:00am.

It was still quite cool out, and the climb only gets sun in the early morning so the guidebook had mentioned that many try to get on the wall early while it is a bit warmer. We took the late approach to avoid the crowds, and it worked well as when we arrived at the base of the climb there were 2 parties already on it but they were most of the way up the route and we never encountered them. Here is a shot of Fras checking out the guidebook as we navigate the approach to the base of the climb:

We racked up and I led up the first pitch, which was a 5.8, then Fras took the next 5.7 pitch which was a nice crack. I then took the long and wandering 5.7 third pitch, and Fras took the next 5.8 pitch (pictured below on the left, heading out to the arete for some good exposure). I then took the the next pitch which apparently had the crux 5.8+ slab move, but it didn't seem very hard and I continued on up to some chimney moves where you had to tunnel behind a large chockstone (pictured below on the right).

Fras took the lead for the final pitch of 5.7, and then we finished it off with the 4th class scramble to the summit. Here is a shot of Fras coming up the final bit to the summit, with terra firma far below:

The climbing was super fun, not too hard but enough thought-provoking moves on each pitch to keep it interesting. It was our first longer multi-pitch together (the first of many more to come!), so it was a perfect outing. The climb had a walk off which was nice, and it had a neat little summit as it was on a formation that jutted out from the larger sandstone massif that it was part of. Here is a summit shot of the happy climbers:

We headed back down to the car, arriving there just as it was getting dark. There was a full moon out and it was really bright, if we had wanted to we probably could have gone back and done the climb again by moonlight. Here is Fras opening up PT to see what sort of goodies we could rustle up for dinner:

We had some really good bread, meat, and cheese from the day before, but we decided that our storage procedure for the meat (in the back of a truck parked in a sunny desert) meant that it might not be good, so we filed this and had the bread and cheese for dinner. We then headed into Las Vegas to find some wireless internet, as I had to check some work related e-mail before the next day. After trying a few Starbucks locations (which, incidentally, no longer offer free wireless internet) we found what we were looking for in a Barnes and Noble. I was able to do my work stuff while Fras read to me from a children's storybook called "Where the Wild Things Are". This book is about a boy named Max who has a wolf suit and gets sent to bed without dinner, then he goes to where the wild things are and sends them to bed without dinner before letting them start the wild rumpus. Here is a photo of Max himself in his wolfsuit, with one of the wild things:

Definitely a good read, Fras made me look at all of the pictures as well, so we both felt like we knew Max pretty well by the end of it. By the time we said goodbye to Max and continued on north it was 10:30pm, so we snagged some hot drinks from Starbucks to keep us awake and then started the next transfer, retracing our steps back north for 216 km to Zion National Park. Here is a map of the transfer (the same as above, but this time we drove from point B to point A, from Red Rocks back to Zion).

After we had exited I-15 near Zion and were passing through the town of Hurricane, I saw some flashing lights behind us. I immediately felt sorry for the poor sucker who was about to be pulled over, until I realized that it was us. Stinker! We were being pulled over because my plate lights (the little lights that illuminate your license plate) were not working, which seemed a bit obscure, but maybe there isn't a lot of big ticket crime in Hurricane so the Police have some spare time on their hands. In any case, the officer was really nice and didn't even seem to mind that I didn't have my up to date insurance card with me. We told him we were going to camp for the night, and he told us to dress warm and have a good night. So with this little bit of good fortune we continued on to our destination for the night, arriving at the Mosquito Flats (free camping near Zion) just before 1:00am.

Day 4: The Subway slot canyon in Zion, 538 km transfer north east to Moab

After a good night's sleep, we rolled out of bed at around 8:30am to another beautiful clear blue sky, and it wasn't even too cold. This was important, as our plans for the day involved doing a slot canyon in Zion called "The Subway". This particular slot canyon involves a few short rappels, a bunch of wading, and most importantly some swimming through really cold pools. The descriptions that we had read on the internet recommended using either a wetsuit or drysuit unless it was stinking hot out and in the middle of summer. In our discussions on the phone before the trip, we had decided that Fras would bring his two wetsuits that we could use for these swims, as in the middle of October it would almost certainly not be "stinking hot". As mentioned earlier in this report, on the weekend that Fras arrived there was a winter storm warning in effect and Utah was experiencing unseasonably cool weather, so when I picked Fras up at the airport I was just about to exclaim "Man, check out this weather! Good thing you brought those wetsuits!" when he beat me to the punch and proclaimed "Yeah, I didn't bother bringing the wetsuits...". Oh well, no biggie, anything that adds to the adventure is fine with me (well, almost anything, it would have been a different story if he hadn't packed his wolfsuit). So, on this brisk October morning, we were looking at the clear skies and counting our blessings that at least it wasn't snowing (as it was when Trev and I had done the mandatory swims in Mystery Canyon). Here is a shot of me enjoying the morning sun and getting ready to pack up PT:

After throwing the tent in the increasingly disordered back of PT, we saddled up and drove into Zion National Park to get our permits at the Visitor Center. After obtaining our permits (where we nodded politely as the ranger explained that they always recommend wet or drysuits for the canyon), we remounted and headed for the trailhead (which is actually just outside the National Park). We found the trailhead without any problems, and upon pulling in to the parking lot we got out of PT and to our amazement we saw our neighbors from Salt Lake City, Mike and Laura, sorting out their gear to do the exact same slot canyon! This was a pretty amazing coincidence, as I didn't even know they were going to be doing this. The slot canyon requires a shuttle as the starting and finishing points are separated by about 8 miles and a few thousand feet of elevation. Fras and I had planned on leaving our mountain bikes at the finishing point and then riding back to the car, while Mike and Laura had planned on hitch hiking. We quickly decided to do the canyon as a group, so we shuttled to the starting point in our truck, leaving Mike and Laura's car at the finishing point. Fras and I also left our bikes here, in case we got separated at any point we would still have that option to get back to our car. We started on the hike, which was pretty well marked, and we even saw a small snowman that some one had made from the snowstorm mentioned previously. The trail started out flat and sandy, and then started descending over some white sandstone. Here are some shots of Fras (left) and myself (right) passing through these sections:

The trail then descended further and the sandstone took on a bright orange hue. Here is a photo of Fras chuckling with delight as he runs up the steep slickrock that we will be riding mountain bikes on in Moab the next day, and on the right a photo of us both excited for the canyon ahead. As we hiked we debated whether or not we should throw away the map and directions to guarantee an epic adventure, but we decided that our lack of wetsuits would prove epic enough so we retained the map after all.

After a few route-finding hiccups we finally arrived at the base of the slot canyon where the fun stuff started. We were immediately greeted by the sandstone overhangs that this canyon is known for, though at this point it was not too narrow. Here is a shot of Mike, Laura, and Fras heading along the bottom of the canyon in this initial stretch:

As we continued we began to encounter more water in the bottom of the canyon. Where the canyon narrowed, this water had to be avoided by either a careful traverse or by the ninja technique of running and bouncing off opposing sandstone slabs, as pioneered by Mike and demonstrated by Fras below:

The first obstacle was as short rappel that we were able to avoid with a wet and sandy down climb, but about 10 minutes later we came to the first mandatory swim. Mike and Laura stopped to don the dry suits that they had wisely rented the day before, and Fras and I donned the surf shorts that we had somewhat less wisely packed in lieu of wetsuits. Neither of us voiced the thought, but I think both of us were wishing that Craze and Joe were there to shout encouragement and sing reggae to motivate us for the cold swim ahead. Mike kindly ferried our packs and dry bags back and forth, and finally it was time to go. The air temperature wasn't frigid, but we were deep in the canyon by this point so it was cool and shady, and the water was very cold. So, we braced ourselves and then took turns taking a running leap into the frigid waters and then flailing like a madman until reaching the other shore. Here is photo of me doing the flying entry, and one of Fras demonstrating the frantic front crawl:

Wow, that was cold! Upon reaching the other side we toweled off and put our pants back on in the hopes that it would stay dry for a while. Alas, that was not to be, as we continued we soon came to another section that had to be waded. Mike kindly offered to carry us across, which I initially brushed off as a joke, but when I realized he was serious I accepted without reservations. Here is a shot of Mike the ferry giving me a shoulder ride across this section (Thanks Mike!):

Upon reaching the other side of this wading section, we were disheartened to find another mandatory swim that was much longer than the first, and more awkward as the walls were so narrow at this point as to preclude our frantic front crawl technique. Even worse, it started with a rappel so you would have to rappel, then float in the cold water while you unclipped and pulled the rope. Very cold! As Mike and Laura rappeled and did the swim in their drysuits, we examined our surroundings and mulled over our options. There was a sandstone shelf above the swimming section to one side, and from the route description it seemed that if we could get up there we could bypass the swim. We tried climbing up onto it, but it was a bit too sketchy (think 5.6 slab with wet and sandy running shoes on). At this point we remembered that it had looked easier to ascend this shelf back before the wading section, so we decided to go back and check that out, unfortunately undoing the ferry ride that Mike had given us. At this point we succumbed to the inevitable, and donned our surf shorts for the rest of the voyage. Upon wading back we were able to gain the shelf, and an awkward and muddy crawl allowed us to bypass the swim, and with a short bum slide down a slab we regained the canyon floor. Great success!!! After this the canyon opened up a bit more briefly, here are some shots of each of us in our cold shorts surveying the road ahead:

As we moved on, we encountered some really neat looking big sandstone dishes in the side of the wall, here is a shot of Fras posing inside one of them:

Continuing on, we arrived at the next rappel which was right before a big tree trunk that was wedged between the narrow walls:

There was no downclimb option for this rappel, so we threaded our rope. It was short enough that we just hand lined down it, but this was the one spot where the rope came in handy. Here is a shot of Mike and Laura getting ready to head down the rappel, and one of me packing up the rope. Immediately after the rappel were some neat hollows that had tunnels through them, on the far right is a shot of me peering through one of these:

Continuing on, we came to a really neat section that had a tube like part with a deep channel etched through the center of it. Here is a shot (left) of me walking through the tube. The tube ended with a large pool of water that we were just able to wade through. At this point the water didn't seem quite as cold as it had higher in the canyon, or maybe we had just acclimatized. To the right is a shot of me getting ready to do this section, with Mike and Laura offering encouragement:

Soon after this section it opened up a bit and we got some welcome sunlight to warm us up a but. Here is a shot of me wading through this section on the left, and then one of Fras sneaking along a sandstone shelf to avoid some water a little further on:

Soon after this we encountered the final rappel. To avoid this rappel we were able to scramble down some slabs to a point about 10 feet off the canyon floor that had a bit of an awkward landing. So close! We thought we might have to go back and rappel after all, but luckily at this point Fras had a flash of brilliance, and after I stepped out of the way he demonstrated the "bank shot", where you slide on your but down the first part of the slab then leap off towards an opposing slab, from which you push off to finally land in the ankle deep sandy water. After this expert demonstration, I followed suit and we continued on. Here is a shot looking back at the terrain in which the bank shot was performed:

Not too long after this we encountered the famous "subway" section that this slot canyon is known for. This was really spectacular, a hollowed out tube with light shining through from the opposite side. Here is a shot of Max looking back and waving as he enters the subway:

And here is a shot of this section from the other side, looking back up canyon. Note the sets of parallel cracks on the canyon floor that head up towards the subway, these represent the trolley tracks for the subway:

This section was pretty spectacular, it is amazing that things like this form. Upon exiting this section we were welcomed by the warm bright sun and we sat for a while to have something to eat. Here is a shot of a nice little waterfall in this section:

At this point the slot canyon part of journey was over, so we decided to put the jets on and make it back to the car as fast as possible to we could get started on the drive to our next destination. Here is a photo of Fras motoring through this section on the right, and on the left is a rock with some fossilized dinosaur footprints embedded in it (according to our route description). For the photo on the right, I was walking in front with the camera so I started running so that I could get ahead and take a picture looking back at Fras, but as I ran I looked back and saw none other than ol' fc chasing me with a big grin on his face. He had thought I was putting in an attack and was determined not to let me get away on a breakaway. After I explained the purpose of my venture he agreed not to chase me, and the photo shoot proceeded without further difficulty.

After a few miles of walking along the flat valley floor we came to the final section where we had to ascend a few hundred feet to the canyon rim above. Here is a shot of Fras coming up that last stretch:

Upon reaching the trailhead, we retrieved our mountain bikes from the bushes where we had stashed them. We had separated from Mike and Laura after exiting the subway, so we decided it would be best to keep moving and ride back to PT instead of waiting for a ride. Here is a shot of Fras at the start of the ride:

The ride went slower than expected, as while I had counted on a 7 mile ride I hadn't factored in the few thousand feet of elevation we had to ascend, or the stiff headwind that we were facing. We were both getting a bit tired and hungry by this point, and wished we were back at the car eating Fruit and Nut Medley. To make the ride a bit more manageable we formed a pace line and alternated taking 0.5 km pulls. This was more psychological than anything, as apart from the windy sections most of it was climbing and we weren't going fast enough to get a big benefit from the draft. Nonetheless, it made it way more fun. As we neared the car it started to get pretty dark, and after a short downhill we were faced with one last steep climb. As we suffered up the climb side by side, we offered each other words of encouragement, like "chips" (waiting for us in the car) and "pizza" (waiting for us in a Pizzeria on the way to Moab). We finally arrived back at the car at 8:00pm, and quickly performed our well practiced routine of pulling everything out of the back of PT and throwing it on the ground, loading the bikes up, then throwing everything else back in the back.

We then began our longest transfer of the trip, a 538 km jaunt north east to Moab. I hadn't consulted a map to see how long this would be, and was sort of expecting it to be in the 2-3 hour range. As we headed north on I-15 we stopped in Cedar City for some blizzards (with extra candy), and a couple of mediums (pizzas, that is). The mediums were a great deal, $9.99 for two from Dominoes. The lady at the counter was really nice, and when the guy working there brought them out to us he announced "It's feeding time, boys!". So, blizzards and pizzas in hand (Fras and I eat healthily in isolation, but for some reason when we get together all bets are off and the menu consists primarily of donuts, pastries, chips, and ice cream), we headed for the mountain bike mecca of Moab. We switched off on driving duties partway through, and finally at 2:00am we arrived in the vicinity of Moab. We were pretty stinkin' tired at this point, so we just headed down a dirt road for a few km, pulled out our sleeping bags and thermarests, and ditched it by the side of the road. We had planned on doing a long ride the next day that required us to catch a shuttle at one of the bike shops the next morning at either 8:30am or 10:30am. We had hoped to catch the early shuttle to guarantee a full day of riding, so we set the alarm for 7:30am and drifted off to sleep with the help of the ear plugs that Fras had wisely packed (the main highway was well within earshot and there were a lot of trucks going by). Below is a map of our transfer from Zion to Moab:

Day 5: Mountain biking in Moab, 205 km transfer north west to Cleveland (the town)

We had set our alarm for 7:30am in order to make the 8:30am shuttle, but unfortunately our magic ear plugs worked a little too well and we slept through the alarm and didn't wake up until 8:15am. As we were still pretty stinkin' tired, neither of us was too upset about this and we decided to just catch the 10:30am shuttle instead and ride faster to make up for the late start to the days riding. We threw our thermarests and sleeping bags in the back of PT and headed into Moab for a delightful pastry breakfast at the City Market grocery store. We then headed up main street to Poison Spyder Bicycles where we picked up Fras's rental bike for the day (a 6" travel Trek Remedy) and kitted up for the days riding. The shuttle left from the shop promptly at 10:30am, and after a slight snafu where we didn't have enough cash to pay the shuttle driver, he agreed to let us on with the condition that we would come back to pay him after the ride or risk bad karma for the rest of our trip. Deal! The shuttle then whisked us up 7000 feet from Moab to the Hazard County trailhead. We had planned on doing the Full Enchilada ride which starts one section higher at Burro Down, but due to a recent snowstorm this trail was not accessible so we had to settle for the Most Of The Enchilada ride. Here is a shot of Fras on the left getting psyched for 7000 vertical feet of descending on world class single track, notice all the sandstone mesas and tablelands in the background. On the right is a photo of the entire peloton mugging for the camera before the flag dropped:

We headed off down the trail at around 11:30am, and quickly passed our shuttle companions who had started ahead of us. The trail was super fun, lots of banked turns and built up jumps weaving through grassy meadows and aspen stands. We took turns leading which was really fun, as the guy in front would pin it and try to lose the caboose. After the Hazard Country section we exited the single track and came to a short section on double track called Kokopelli Flats. This part wasn't super exciting, but you could go really fast and take some jumps off some rollers which added some entertainment. After a few minutes of riding we came to the spot where the Upper Porcupine Singletrack split off. We stopped here for a break to eat some leftovers from the couple of mediums we had purchased the night before (pizza, this was our main sustenance for the day). Here is a shot of me enjoying some Domino's Supreme Pizza washed down with Gatorade:

From here it was on down the upper porcupine single track. This part was super fun as it got a bit more technical, but still really fast with lots of tight, loose sand corners weaving through the stunted desert pines (I have no idea if that is a tree species, but they were pines growing in a desert). Here is a shot of me riding down one of the short stepped sections. So fun! The weather was also totally amazing, perfect temperatures and sunny. Everyone we met was super happy and seemed like they were having the best day of their lives, riding endless perfect single track with breathtaking views on a beautiful day.

After a while we began to follow the rim of the mesa we were on, and then joined into the Porcupine Rim Trail, which is one of the most classic rides in Moab by itself, let alone piling all the awesome singletrack we had already ridden on top of it. We stopped at a lookout for a good view out over Castle Valley, with Castleton Tower, the Priest, the Nuns, and the Rectory on the background in the center of the picture:

From here on out it was more downhill high jinks. The trail widened into doubletrack at some points but was still really fun, as it was downhill so you could go really fast and focus on picking good lines through the rough stuff. Here is a shot of Fras putting his Trek Remedy through its paces as he launches off one of the drops along this section:

Eventually the doubletrack turned into singletrack again and got super fun and technical (this trail is so awesome, go ride it!), and before we knew it we were standing beside the Colorado River at the end of the trail. What a ride! At this point it was 2:30pm so we had been riding for only 3 hours though it felt like longer with all the different terrain we had covered. After pausing for a moment to savor the moment, we then headed along River Road back into Moab. After stopped at a gas station to use the ATM and get some chocolate milk (scientifically proven to be the best recovery drink on earth), we headed back to Poison Spyder to return the rental bike and pay the shuttle guy to ensure our continued good karma. It was now about 3:30pm, so with a few hours of daylight left the obvious thing to do was to go ride Moab's most famous trail, the Slickrock Trail. We picked up PT and headed out of Moab on Sand Flats Road, arriving at the Slick Rock trailhead just before 4:00pm. Here is a shot of Fras inspecting the ingredients in the sunscreen (making sure there is no MSG) while our trusty steeds stand ready for action.

We headed out on the practice loop to start, and Fras quickly got the hang of riding the ridiculously steep inclines of the slick rock trail. Here is a shot on the left of Fras grinding out one of the climbs with Arches National Park (to the North) in the background, and one the right one of me enjoying myself with the La Sal mountains (to the South) in the background.

The riding was super fun, it was my third time on the trail but it was still just as fun. The light was also really nice, turning orange as the sun dropped and making for some really nice hues in the orange sandstone. Here is a shot of stuntman Max showing off his slick rock skills:

And below are a couple more shots, the huge grins on our faces are photographic proof of how much stinkin' fun this riding is. Ohhh that's nice!!! (to be said in an Australian accent like Robbie McEwen).

As you may have figured out from the photos, the trail is marked by white paint marks on the sandstone. Almost the entire trail is on the slickrock, so the only thing you have to guide you is the paint markings. Here is a shot of me lost in a sea of slick rock, with only the markings to guide me:

As we circled back on the latter part of the ride we had some good views of the Colorado river that we had ridden along earlier in the day when we were returned from the Porcupine Rim trail.

Towards the end of the ride we both started to get the hunger knock, as by this time we had totally exhausted our supply of mediums and needed to get back to the car to refuel on Fruit and Nut Medley. At the end of the ride we were pretty worn out but posed for a team slickrock photo as the sun dropped below the horizon. What a day!

Upon getting back to the car we loaded up our bikes, changed out of our chamois, and started the evening's transfer, a relatively paltry (after the night before) 205 km north west to to the town of Cleveland which is near the Triassic bouldering area (the next day's destination). We stopped in Moab for sandwiches and ice cream at the Hogi Yogi, and then continued on our way. We made it to Price by around 9:30pm, and were cruising down main street looking for the turnoff to Cleveland when what should we see in the rear view mirror but a couple of flashing cherries. Merde! Another run-in with the man! This time we were being pulled over for driving too fast, apparently the speed limit was only 25 mph. The officer was an older gentleman who was pretty nice, he asked me how fast I was going and I said I had no idea (which was true), and he didn't tell me how fast I was going, so he must not have had his radar gun on (the element of surprise was ours!). He went back to his car for a while with my license (and luckily didn't ask for my proof of insurance, as I hadn't acquired it between now and the last time we were pulled over 2 days ago and couldn't find it), and when he came back he just told us to take it down a notch and was super friendly. He even gave us directions to Cleveland, and told us to have a good night. This must have been the good karma from paying the shuttle guy coming back to work in our favour. With our newly acquired directions we proceeded to Cleveland and on to Triassic without further incident, and bedded down for another open air desert sleep.

Day 6: Bouldering in Triassic, 219 km transfer north west to Salt Lake City

After another sound desert sleep, I woke up at 9:00am. Fras's thermarest and sleeping bag were vacant, so I knew this meant that he had left on urgent business of exploring the boulders. Fraso has a penchant for doing this, though usually he picks miserable cold and rainy days, and drags someone else with him to the misery boulders. This morning, however, was bright and sunny so after Fras returned from his mission we slammed some bagels and Fruit and Nut Medley for breakfast, grabbed the pads, and dashed over to the boulders. The sector we planned on exploring was named "The Land of a Thousand Boulders", and it looked pretty impressive with tons of sandstone blocs littering the hillside. To get things rolling we headed over to classic V1 called Golden that we both dispatched as shown below, with Fras on the left and me on the right:

From there we headed over to the aptly named "Sweet Boulder" and circuited a bunch of good V0-V2 problems to keep the warm-up going. We then moved to the Lemon Boulder which has a bunch of really good, but quite high problems. Most of them get skull and cross bones in the guidebook meaning that a fall from the upper part might not be in your best interests. We started with a really good V3 called Shamrock. This was good enough for my daily dose of scaring myself, but Fras upped the ante by dispatching a super classic highball V4 called Lemon Drop. We then moved on to some other stuff, here is a sequence of Fras sending a really good V5 called "Some get Two Fingers" (the name refers to a mono pocket on the problem):

And here are a couple of me on a fun V1 called Four Leaf Clover:

At this point we started to hear some other voices, as this place is out in the middle of nowhere and not one of Utah's better known bouldering areas, so midweek we had not expected to see anyone else here. The voices slowly grew louder, and from the approaching racket it sounded like about 20 preteens on a field trip. About 5 minutes later, what rounded the corner but about 20 screaming preteens, escorted by a few young adults, and accompanied by about 5 annoying, barking dogs. Apparently it was some sort of a climbing field trip for them. After about 10 seconds we realized that we had no interest in climbing among these raucous little hellions, so we picked up and moved to another area. We settled on a classic V5 called Busted Up. It was really good, starting under a roof then moving on to an arete with some good lock-offs and long reaches. Fras used his pincers of steel to send after a few tries, and I came pretty close to sending but by the time I had the moves worked out my reserves were draining and I never linked it up for the full send. Here are a coupe of shots of me on the lower part of the problem and moving out to the arete:

We then moved around the other side of this boulder to something that was not in the guidebook but looked really fun, big long moves between good holds. Here is a photo of Fras on the first move of this problem:

We then moved on to some other stuff, and finished the day with a fun V3 dyno called Triple Sec. By this time it was about 3:30pm, and we were starting to get tired and our skin was wearing thin so we called it a day and headed back to PT. After loading up, we started on the last significant transfer of the trip, a 219 km cannonball run north to the Salt Lake City airport to pick up Rosie when her flight arrived at 6:30pm. We had timed it pretty close, but arrived only about 5 minutes after Roanne got in, thereby avoiding a confrontation with an angry wizard. We all squeezed into PT, and then headed off to find some dinner. We decided to go to a restaurant in Sugarhouse called the Blue Plate Diner. This was a funky sort of place, and the food was pretty good. What I do remember is that Fras and I both ordered a similar dish, but I ordered it as an omelette and Fras ordered it as eggs benedict, and his was way better. So, if you are ever faced with this situation, go with the Eggs Benny and everything will turn out fine. We then headed back to our house for some much needed showers and a sound nights sleep.

Day 7: Mountainbiking: Park City to Salt Lake City via the Wasatch Crest Trail

After a refreshing sleep in real beds, we woke up late and had a relaxing breakfast to try and recharge our batteries for the home stretch of adventure week. After some discussion we decided that an epic Park City mountain bike ride was in order for the day, and we got our bike stuff ready. Roanne's friend Hayley was visiting, and they kindly agreed to drop us off in Park City where we could start our ride and then work our way back to Salt Lake City on the extensive trail network in the Wasatch range that seperates Salt Lake City from Park City. Since PT is our only vehicle domiciled in Salt Lake City, and Pt only seats three people in the cab, Fras and I both jumped in the back with our bikes. With Roanne and Hayley in the front, we were off to Park City. We were dropped off at the trailhead for Sweeney's Switchbacks just after 12:30pm, here is a photo of us on the beautiful sunny day, ready for some mountain bike action! Soon after the photo was taken we headed up the trail and Roanne and Hayley went to check out the shops of Park City before driving back to Salt Lake City.

We headed up Sweeney's Switchbacks which ascends the lower slopes of the Park City ski area before linking into John's trail. If you ever find yourself in Park City, make sure you ride this trail, it is so fun. It continues to climb through endless uniform groves of aspen. By this time most of the aspens had lost their leaves, but it was still great scenery with all of the light coloured trunks visible and the ground covered with fallen leaves. Here are a couple photos of Fras working his way through the aspens:

Near the top of John's trail we encountered a large moose (I guess all moose are large) on the trail. We stopped to take some photos, and then made some noise and approached the moose to get him to move along. As we approached the moose ran a bit further down the trail and stopped again. We repeated this process a few times until he finally trotted off into the forest. Here is a photo on the left of me setting off in pursuit of the moose, and on the right a photo of the moose himself:

As we crested the top of John's trail we came out into the open again, with a view of the upper Park City ski slopes and some nice fall colours (shown below). At this point we connected in to the Mid Mountain Trail and started heading south towards Deer Valley.

We stopped for some food shortly after starting along the Mid Mountain trail (so named because it traverses the three Park City ski resorts staying more or less at an altitude of 8000 feet), and took some pictures. Unfortunately, the pictures had a really washed out whitish look to them, and upon further examination we realized that the batteries were almost dead. At this point we regretted that we had taken about 50 pictures of Henry the Moose, but what is done is done. In retrospect it was probably to our good fortune that the camera batteries died at this point because we ended up finishing our ride just as it was getting dark, and if the camera batteries hadn't died then we probably would have squandered much more time taking photos and would have ended up feeling our way along the trails by the light of the moon. Anyways, here is a photo of Fras on the slopes of Park City right before we stopped taking pictures.

We continued along the Mid Mountain trail until we reached the Team Big Bear trail, at which point we climbed further up the slopes and joined with the Guardsman Pass road. This was a grind of a climb on a dirt road that ascended to 10,000 feet where we could look down into Big Cottonwood Canyon. At the crest of Guardsman Pass we picked up the Wasatch Crest Trail, which many designate as the best trail in the Salt Lake City area. It is an awesome long downhill that traverses the crest that divides Park City from Big Cottonwood Canyon; riders are treated to amazing views and non-stop fast and swoopy single track. After ascending Puke Hill we stopped at the start of the single-track for a washed out group photo:

With whoops of delight we blasted down the amazing single-track, not seeing another rider the entire time. There was some snow on the trail from the last weekend's storm, but most of the trail was pretty clear and dry. Here is a photo of me coming down the 'spine' section of the trail just above Desolation Lake, note the long shadows as by this time it was around 5:00pm.

We continued down the trail, and as it dropped into Millcreek Canyon there were more shady sections that were predominantly snow and ice. This led to a few shennanigans on some of the high speed corners, but we made it to the Lower Big Water trailhead without too much drama. At this point we had only seen a handful of people, so I decided to take a whizzer by the side of the road, and midway through a sport utility headed past coming from the Upper Big Water trailhead. I pretended to be studiously examining the local flora, but the SUV passengers knew what I was up to and laughed and honked. After this little incident we headed down the road, and discovered that long stretches of the road were covered in the snow and ice. We were also very cold by this point, as the combination of the sun dropping and being deeper in the canyon meant that we were totally in shade. Our numb fingers and the icy road made for some interesting descending, but eventually we got out of the snow and ice sections and arrived at the point where the Pipeline trail splits off from the road. This trail parallels the road for the lower section of Millcreek Canyon, so we headed down this before dropping down Rattlesnake Gulch and back onto the road for the last stretch. The leaves in lower Millcreek were in their full glory and we had some amazing views as the warm late afternoon light illuminated the fall colours. Here is a shot of Fras emerging on the Pipeline single track from a stand of scrub maples :

We were pretty exhausted by the time we reached Wasatch Boulevard, but we used our last bit of energy to time trial it back to our place in Sugarhouse to try and beat Roanne and Hayley home. We got back just after 7:00 for a good 6.5 hour ride. Below is an altitude profile and topo (recorded on the GPS unit we were carrying) that shows the route we took, all told it was about 70 km with at least 80% on awesome singletrack.

Roanne and Hayley walked in the door soon after we arrived, and they had groceries to make some salmon sandwiches for dinner, so we were pretty excited about that. After dinner Fras and I discussed going out for a 3 hour drive in PT just to keep the rhythm of the last 6 days going (all day adventure followed by 200-500 km drive in the evening), but in the end we decided to just go to bed instead.

Day 8: Cyclocross Race in Ogden, Trad climbing in Little Cottonwood Canyon

Initially Fras and I had planned on heading up to Lone Peak Cirque for some climbing, but given the 3 hour+, 6000 foot elevation gain of the approach and it's location at 11,200 feet, we decided that there might be too much snow up there and tried to think of other avenues of amusement. It just so happened that there was another cyclocross race on this day (it being Saturday, wow, has an entire week of adventures gone by already?), and since we had a good 6.5 hour warm-up ride in our legs from the day before, we decided to head up to Ogden and have at it. Roanne and Hayley agreed to come and spectate, so this made it even more fun. We all loaded up into PT and arrived at the Weber Fairgrounds at 10:00, just in time to register for our 10:45am race and ride a few warm-up laps. The course was really flat and non-technical, not so good for Fras who was on my old KHS mtb, but things still promised to be fun. At 10:45am the gun went off and 50 racers hammered off the line. I had a good spot on the front row and was able to make the front group of 5 riders, Fras got swarmed a bit off the start and couldn't quite bridge to the front group and was chasing in the next group back. We were both feeling the cumulative effects of adventure week, and previous days ride so it was a tough race. Fras told me afterwards that he couldn't understand how I was in the front group, and kept repeating to himself "the shaft is superhuman, I'm not superhuman... darn it, Max, yes you are! Nooo... the shaft is superhuman, I'm not superhuman...". With a few laps to go I dropped my chain as I was remounting after one of the logs, and lost about 10 seconds on the front group that I was not able to make back up, so I rolled in for 5th place. Fras suffered a flat on his last lap, and lost the group he was with, and ended up rolling in for 13th. All told it was a great effort as Fras was at a disadvantage being on a mtb on this "roadie" course, and we were both wallowing in weak sauce from the rigors of adventure week. Here are some photos from the race and Hayley and Roanne were kind enough to capture: more cowbell!!!! Below is one of Fras loping over the log barrier like a gazelle:

Here are a couple of me passing through the barriers and then remounting afterwards:

Here is one of Fras laying down the watts as he accelerates away from the barrier, and one of him carving the turns around the trees while our teammate Nick gives chase in the background:

And a couple of me on the tree section, with the Wasatch mountains in the background:

And finally, here is one of the happy soldiers after the battle is over:

After the race we headed back to Salt Lake City, where Fras and I relaxed in the backyard to recover for our afternoon activities while Roanne and Hayley went fabric shopping. At this point we were both experiencing varying degrees of MPRSS (Max's Post Race Stomach Syndrome). This is what happens after a bike race (or other really hard effort where you give it everything, maybe even little bit more) and you have some sort of gas problem that makes your stomach feel really painful. I say varying degrees, because while I was only mildly affected, Fras was totally debilitated, and was reduced to lying in the backyard groaning while I served him herbal remedies such as ginger tea. We spent a few hours reading climbing magazines, and finally by 3:30pm Fras started to improve and put some coherent sentences together, so I knew it was time to go climbing. After gathering our gear and strapping Fras onto the scooter, we headed to Little Cottonwood Canyon to climb a few trad pitches as it was an awesome day and it would have been a crime to squander a perfectly good afternoon. We parked at the Gate Buttress parking lot and I attempted to steer us up to Satan's Corner (a classic 5.8+). After a number of route finding errors that involved climbing up talus slopes and back down again, we were finally on the right track and arrived at Satan's Corner to find it unoccupied and beckoning us to climb it. As we geared up we had some rejuvenating apples. Fras was still not feeling too chipper, as evidenced by the photo below where he feigns enthusiasm while enjoying a delicious apple:

We headed up the climb which was really good (I had done it a few times prior) and had great views of the fall colours up the canyon (unfortunately I forgot to bring the camera up). After lowering off we agreed to call it a day and head back, especially since we had plans to cook a gourmet dinner that night. We stopped off at a grocery store on the way back to get some giant fresh bakery cookies and supplies for the evening's festivities and then headed back. For dinner we whipped up handmade fresh pasta with vodka cream sauce, caesar salad, and garlic bread, with apple crisp and homemade vanilla ice cream for dessert. Very good! As we were working on the pasta the wild rumpus broke out, as seen below on the left. On the right is a shot of everyone (except the cameraman) sitting down to dinner:

After dinner we played a game of Settlers of Catan, then spent some time looking at photos before calling it a night.

Day 9: West Slabs of Mount Olympus

For the final day of adventure week we decided to do an easy multi-pitch climb that I had been thinking of doing for a while: the West Slabs route on Mount Olympus. It was a good choice because of it's proximity to Salt Lake City, and checking in at just 5.5 with 10-12 pitches it promised a low stress day. After a relaxing breakfast we grabbed our gear, donned our harnesses and saddled up on the Scootie:

After about 20 minutes we were at the base of the approach, which started in the Olympus Hills residential neighbourhood at the foot of Mount Olympus. The approach was easy to follow with great directions from the guidebook, and after about 30 minutes we were ascending a steep and rocky gully, headed for the base of the route. Here are some photos, in the shot on the left looking back down the gully we have been ascending, Fras is informing me that the section he just scrambled up was Waterfall Ice Class II, and on the right looking up the gully towards the slabs, I am informing Fras that it was not Waterfall Ice II as there is neither ice or waterfall present.

We reached the base of the route about 45 minutes after leaving Scoot, and sorted out our gear on a grassy ledge at the base of the low angle slabs. We decided to simul-climb and lead in blocks of 3-4 pitches, with the leader putting gear every 40 feet or so and the second taking it out as he climbed, until the leader ran low on gear at which point he would build a belay and then switch leads. Below is a photo of Max looking astonished as I have just told him that I accidentally shrunk his wolf suit in the dryer the night before:

I started out leading and the climbing was really fun, very casual (significantly easier than 5.5, more like 4th class for a lot of it) and on really solid rock. Here is a photo of Fras coming up to a large ledge where I had built the first below, and then one of him with the rack getting ready to lead out on the second block of pitches:

And here is one of me at the next belay, with Salt Lake City in the background:

I took the third lead, and just as I was running out of gear I topped out. I built a belay and brought Fras up, and we both savoured the summit and the amazing day, with great views in all directions. Here is a shot of triumphant mountaineers, looking north to Salt Lake City and the Great Salt Lake in the background:

And here is a panorama shot, on the left side of the picture you can see the snow capped peaks of the cottonwood canyons:

After enjoying some chocolate that I had surreptitiously packed in the lunch bag, we headed down the descent route which had some fixed ropes and some down climbing that seemed about the same difficulty as what we had just climbed up. Here are some photos from the descent, on the left I am whistling a merry tune as I slide my way down some rocks in the gully, and on the right I am passing through the brightly coloured maple groves that the approach trail wandered through. Fall is amazing in Salt Lake City!

We made it back to our house in the early afternoon, and spent some time sorting through gear and looking at photos as well as taking care of other urgent business like watching the SNL "More Cowbell" skit a few more times. Fras's flight left at 9:00pm, and about an hour before we had to leave to drive to the airport Roanne decided that she would sew 6 pairs of fleece socks for Fras to take back with him as gifts for Carla and Mer. It seems Roanne isn't satisfied unless she is trying to accomplish several things at once in a very short amount of time, and if other don't impose deadlines on her then she makes them for herself. So, as Roanne frantically manned her sewing machine and begged us not to leave for the airport yet, we tried to convince her that it would be better to just mail the socks then to have Fras miss his flight. Finally Roanne finished the socks and we hopped in PT and gunned it for the airport. We arrived 40 minutes before Fras's flight, and luckily the airport was not busy so he made his flight. And thus concluded Utah Adventure Week 2008. It was an awesome but exhausting 9 days where we packed more fun (and driving) in than I would have previously thought possible. We were both pretty tired after the week of activities, and as I said goodbye to Francis I told him that I was going to go check in at a hospital and lie in bed with an IV all day to try and recover. But a few days later we both felt fine, and started planning Bishop Adventure Week for Spring of 2009. As Ali G would say: BOOYAKASHA!!!!