Menu Close

Whatever goes down, must climb its ass back out.

The plan: Take my day off on Saturday and hike the Subway.

Strategy: Get permit, get rope, get ‘er done.

Assignments: KB get permit, Me get rope.

Outcome: Ended up hiking down the Kaibab trail from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon with Bryce and Cim.

Well things didn’t go as planned for our Subway outing, basically there was no way in hell we were actually going to end up with a permit. My plan B consisted of me riding in the beautiful weather of Cedar Mountain on the Virgin River Rim Trail. Bryce and Cimarron had a different idea. I should have stuck with my original plan but somehow I allowed myself to get dragged into another death march.

The pick up time was agreed upon to be somewhere between 6:30 and 9. Naturally, I was ready at 6:25 at which point I waited for another 45 minutes for the rest of the group.

Cimarron drove. She drives fast. We got there. Bryce complained about speedy driving. We all had to pee. We stopped and peed and then drove another 30 seconds to the trailhead. No, we didn’t realize the trailhead was right around the corner. Doh!

KB and I had never been down the Kaibab trail so we had done a bit of research the evening before and had decided that our goal was the Roaring Springs. Bryce and Cim had been done the trail and were shooting for a bit more, which was absolutely fine with us. We just weren’t going to follow.

As anyone knows who has hiked down into the Grand Canyon, the way down goes by super fast, it’s when you turn around that things get nasty. As such, our trip to the bottom of the giant hole was pleasant. Everyone was jovial. Everyone was taking pictures of everyone taking pictures. Bryce took a picture of mule shit. Yes, there were mules on the first two miles of trail making for a dusty, urine and shit soaked trail. Once past the mule turn around, things were nice. The weather was as close to perfect as it could be. It was overcast keeping the numbers low and making things feel good. We trucked along making good time. Of course, there was always that nagging sensation in the back of my mind knowing that I would have to turn around and come back out.

We made it to the bridge. The bridge takes you from one side of the canyon to the other, that’s what bridges do. We all stopped for a snack and enjoyed our surroundings. Then we kept right on trucking down to the springs. They are called Roaring Springs because they are more waterfalls that come shooting out of the side of the cliff, being springs that immediately turn into waterfalls. Beautiful. Luckily for us, someone had decided that there was a dire need for power lines in the bottom of this canyon. Hence, the first ten to 15 minutes that we could see the springs’ natural beauty, it was intersected by man.

We made it to the falls and had lunch.

Then we turned around.

Bryce walks fast.

The clouds burned off. It was humid. It was steep.

We saw some dude who was trail running. Idiot.

I couldn’t see because I was sweating so much that it was drizzling right into my eyes. I thought I was going to faint.

I drank 54 ounces of HEED and 100 ounces of water. And didn’t need to pee. I was dripping.

The girls stopped and did Yoga.

We made it out.

I don’t think I ever need to go back.

That’s that.

Speaking of Death Marches. The infamous KC has signed on for SlotoJa, which means its throw down time. To help you get the feel of how this “race” will be going down below are our email correspondence.

From KC:

LUCAS!!!!!!
Damnit, I’ve been meaning to write you. WE need to ride slo-to-ja this fall. I need to ride a bike.  I moved to salt lake, Rachel is still in clifton, but she is moving down soon. I just saw your new blog, it really struck a chord. actually I think it knocked loose some deeply buried rage and frustration that normally surfaces twice a year at the bike repair class.  I will have some really good material for you on May 8th (The last day of the next bike class).

My reply:

Would love to see pics and the rants that go along with teaching that class…

If you are in for Slo-to-Ja so am I.

From KC with subject of “What did Mr. Spock find in the enterprise Toilet?”:

From KC:

Lucas,
I was thinking, instead of riding bikes to Jackson, we could go hiking to high creek lake and make a chicken snuff film on cherry peak.  I’m really excited for the ride to  jackson, I wish Ian K would come along, He’s got to know that no matter what his condition is, that he’ll kick my slow ass.  I just found out that Rachel is going to have a  baby.
In regards to children, my favorite quote is something that you said once “Why would you want to ruin a perfectly good vagina?”

BTW it was the captains log
-Kc

My reply:

Hey, congrats. I remember you saying that Rachel was really wanting to have a baby.

I’m stoked for the ride to, gonna build up a rear wheel here next week just for the occasion.

Get out and ride. and then send how slow you are to Ian and maybe he will go…

Out.

From KC:

Rukas,
I’m Really stoked, I bought a new bike for the trip, it’s got an Aluminum frame  6 inches of travel, SR front shock. Disk brakes, steel rims, and fuck the Bob, I’m gonna wear a  backpack. FUCK YEAH

I had a single speed up until last month when I gave it to by Brother Kelly, But I”m still so paranoid about my knees fucking up again that I never rode the damn thing.  I’m  thinking about borrowing my old Bridgestone from my sister Kim for the trip. either that, Bob Jackson, or worst case scenario, plastic Giant.  I keep thinking that it would be awesome to have a cheap ten speed to ride around on, then I trick them out and give them to a relative. I need help.
I also need help with my homonecrobeastiality problem, but that’s a different matter entirely, I’m really stoked for the Slotoja (I heard that they named the race after the  indian tribe that used to live in cache valley)
Kc

My reply:

Fuck. you sure know how to raise the bar.

Just to up the “making cycling difficult” bar a bit more I will be riding my singlespeed that is designed around the Miller High Life can. The BOB dry bag will be completely devoid of any gear, rather I will be filling it full of ice and then jamming it as high as I can with High Life. After every mile I will stop and drink one beer. In this way I will be keeping well hydrated, my carbo levels will be high and I won’t be able to feel the pain of realizing that this whole damn thing is a bad idea.

Out.

From KC:

That looks like a seriously sweet ride,  What do you think about some backroads? I could borrow Rachel’s Kona, I’ll look at google maps and see what’s out there.  I would  have accepted the 204 high life challenge when I was in college, now I think I’d have to stop with 51 sweet sweet domestic beers.

That just sounds like good clean fun to me. Luckily there are plenty of spots left. Just figure it out and you’re in.

Peace. Love. and Revolution.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *