Day 38, day of hills

Utah gets pretty cold at night. The campsite in Zion sits at around 4000 feet, despite being surrounded by towering mountains. The effect is a bit deceiving, especially because the daylight hours surrounding sunrise and sunset, the sun really isn't heating up the canyon.

The low thirties (last night's lowest) is doable with my gear. My sleeping bag is rated for 20 degrees, which is a survival rating, with a comfortable low of 40. I just wear some wool base layers inside the bag and I'm usually fine. But last night I threw on the Ghost Whisperer jacket for some extra warmth (it is an incredible jacket, not sure I would survive this trip without it).

Daniel has a sleeping bag liner that adds 10 to 15 degrees of comfort to your sleeping bag. I'm considering purchasing one, just because a new sleeping bag is quite expensive (although I have a 20% coupon at backcountry), and I'm heading into summer months where the weather may be a lot warmer.

Ready to make my way towards Bryce Canyon, I said farewell to Daniel and we exchanged contact information.

The BMW and Surly touring rigs in the background.

I could have sworn I took a picture of the bikes by themselves, but it's not in Google Photos. This is the third occurrence where a picture I took went missing. Or the problem is me, user error, and I am not pressing the shutter button. We'll never know.

Since Dave and I split ways, photos of me are rare, but here you go. Heading out:

I nailed the first climb, 1200 feet, in 45 minutes, all the way to the entrance of the tunnel. Ready for hitchhiking through no-bike zone, I took all the loose items off my bike and flagged down a pickup truck. Kurt, from Arizona, was kind enough to drive me through the tunnel (and help me lift the bike in his truck).

He dropped me off at the cafe at the summit, meaning I escaped another hour or two of climbing after the tunnel. I thanked him and rode about twenty feet before running into a fully functional, outdoor blacksmithing shop.

George was at the anvil, pounding away at little horseshoe key chains and bottle openers that he sells at the cafe. The whole process is fascinating; with his skill level he maintained a conversation for about fifteen minutes, all the while moving bits of metal in and out of the forge and hammering them.

Before taking off, he gave me a bottle opener (made that morning) fashioned in the shape of a horse! Thank you George.

I got another mile down the road before running into nine cycle tourists.

In case you're counting, one of the cyclists was sick (also functioning as a SAG wagon, hence no front panniers).

All from the Vancouver area in British Columbia, they were touring around the southwest from Las Vegas (pretty sure that was their starting point...). They shared a sandwich with me and we discussed the feasibility of eight cyclists hitchhiking through that tunnel.

From there, it was all smooth sailing.

Smooth until I got back to the Highway 89 junction, of course. The next several hours was pure climbing. The scenery was so nice I didn't mind.

While climbing the endless hill, a motorcyclist passed me, pulled into the shoulder and stopped. It was Daniel, on his way to Bryce Canyon. I expected to see him pass earlier, but he informed me that a rock slide occurred at the tunnel into Zion and they closed the road. He had to make a massive detour to leave the park and get back on Highway 89. This news article says the road will be closed until deemed safe, and thankfully no one was injured. I must have left at just the right time.

The goal was to grab dinner at the Galaxy Diner in Hatch, ride on a bit and camp near Zion. Unfortunately, the hill was slow going and I didn't start eating dinner until after sunset.

My Strava ride for the afternoon, the endless hill.

Luckily, I met Ryan, a cycle tourist with a mountain bike that suggested a dirt fire road just a mile from the diner. Great suggestion.

I wearily rode the dirt road for about mile, pulled off to the side and setup camp.

The temperature is supposed to drop even more tonight. I'm so tired I might not even notice.

Joe