As a general rule, I don't plan on being on the road; in any major sense, during one of the three day weekends. Not only is there extra traffic, but people are in a hurry both coming and going and sometimes the tension you feel on the road is palpable. But I did want to go on a ride and I figured that Saturday, both weather wise and traffic wise might be the best bet. I had been thinking about where I wanted to ride the whole week, and since they were talking about how bad the traffic in Utah County was going to be Saturday afternoon, I opted to leave early and hit Happy Valley before the traffic started to pick up.
As I left my driveway, Miles Davis from his “Kind of Blue,” came on my Ipod No matter how often I re-load my Ipod, at least two or three of the piece's from this recording, seem to survive, Its as if they had some sort of digital extraterritoriality that exempts them from being removed. The traffic on both I-215 and I-15 did not seem much greater than a usual Saturday morning and except for the construction in Utah County and the narrowed roads, it did not get heavy. I passed some new sound barrier's being installed, I have mixed feelings about sound barrier walls, If I lived near the freeway, I am sure I would want them, but they tend to make the road seem less organic, at least to me, almost reminds me of a cattle chute. A cattle chute road! I will have to think about that.
Just as I exit I-15 at Spanish Fork, there are a bunch of motorcycle's a head of me. Mostly couples on Big Honda's and Harley's and thank goodness most of them are wearing helmets and have at least long sleeved shirts on. Also stuffed animals seem to be popular. They all turn off at the Chevron station, and I head up to a station up the road, that is less crowded.
As I start up the hill toward the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon I see the 8 windmills a head, if I were a child, riding in a car the other way, and saw against the silhouette in the distance a field of blades it might even frighten me. Instead I think how much my father would have been intrigued by both the advances in wind power and solar energy. The traffic has started to pick up in the canyon and I have to wait till an open section to pass a couple of cars. It doesn't seem long until I see in the distance, and my garmin points out that I will be turning off of highway 6 just above the old town of Thistle, which was of course buried by flooding a few decades ago. It is chilly enough that I turn on my heated grips to the lowest position and even wish I had put one of my liner's back into my coat and closed all the vents.
After the new junction I am back on my beloved highway 89. I have spent so much of my life on this highway both in Utah, Wyoming , and Arizona,. At Fairview I turn off and start heading east on highway 31 to Huntington. Years ago, probably the late 1980's or early 1990's I first rode this road on a bike. I had read in the paper that they had uncovered a woolly mammoth while working on a water retention basin and after digging it out, it was going to be taken to BYU for study and eventual public display. You could only see a part of it, as they were digging it out, but it was interesting. It appeared to be a little bit bigger than a buffalo.
The first part of this road, up the canyon till about the summit, has been newly chipped sealed. I have very mixed feelings about chip sealing, to me, it is the paving equivalent of a comb over! It just masks the underlying problem of the road needing some real attention. Down and dirty and fairly cheap. All the places I have been to this summer have had newly chipped roads, I think that is why Utah had such a large percentage of shovel ready projects for the Federal Stimulus Funds.
This road has wonderful fairly evenly spaced sweeping turns, my favorite and after the summit, the chip sealing ended and I was back to regular paving, this coincided with a change in county's. The elevation at the summit is about 9,500 ft. Down the road to my right there is a turn off for Joe's Valley and reservoir, and a continuation onto Ephraim. But it is a dirt road and although my bike would handle it okay, I would need to probably make some suspension adjustments to enjoy it. My Great Great Great Grandfather, what a mouthful, Peter Madsen was one of the founders of Ephraim, and supposedly even named it. He converted to the LDS faith in Copenhagen, was baptized by Erastus Snow who opened up Denmark for the church. Peter Madsen even lent Erastus $300 to help Erastus get back to Utah. One of each of their grandchildren would marry each other and be my Mother's parents. Peter and his wife were part of the first group of converts from Denmark to come to Utah. He never gave up his ale and spirits, and said you can't deprive a Dane of his coffee. Peter Madsen and his wife emigrated to the USOFA, and came West in a Handcart company and after a brief stay in SLC, they headed down to Sevier County in 1853. They stayed in Spring City the first year. Peter Madsen was a wheelwright and a carpenter and in his long life, (91 years) he worked on three temples constructed in Utah, fought in the Black Hawk War, worked on the railroad as it came down Weber Canyon in 1868 and lived until 1910. His daughter Cathrine was my mother's grandmother and she lived till she was 92 and died a month or so after I was born. I suspect that my love of reading and knowledge, stem from my Madsen-Rodgers genes. They all read and wrote and had good memories.
Back to the road! I have ridden on this road many times and it has such a good feel to it, the air is crisp and although I can't see any hints of autumn in the foliage, one sense's it in the air. I stop for a drink of water and I remember a ride in this direction in 1995 in the fall, when someone on a bike behind me, who I knew, ended up crashing on a fairly tight turn towards the bottom, he was trying to keep up with me. I was far enough ahead of him, that I didn't see the crash, it was only because when the road got straight I couldn't see anyone behind me, that I got concerned and went back. They ended up taking him to the hospital in Price, I had to call his wife, who I had never met and tell her about the crash, and later they ended up flying him back to Salt Lake City. About the time I am thinking about this, I ride past the turn off to the Crandall Canyon mine and decided I needed to think about cheerful things.
At the junction with highway 10 I turn north for the ride to Price. This is fairly bleak desert country and not an easy place to live, or to make a living. At Price, I turn onto highway 6/191 and head to Helper for gas. If I gas up here, I will be able, I think, to go the rest of the way home without stopping for gas. I stretch and get off the bike at Helper, have some water and get back onto the bike for the several mile ride to the turn off of highway 191 and Indian Canyon to Duchesne.
Indian Canyon has both some nice turns and also some long climbing stretches of straight road. There is some traffic on this stretch and I get stuck behind about 7 cars as the road meanders toward the summit. Finally there is a place to pass, and I drop down a gear or two and quickly pass five of the cars and trucks. The other two are a little bit ahead and it takes me a mile or so to catch up and pass them and as I head down towards the eventual junction in Duchesne with highway 40 I think about how easy it still is in the West to be somewhere where there are probably no more than one or two people per square mile. Several years ago I went on a ride with my friend DeVern, where one of my criteria for where we went, was that it had to be at least two counties away from the nearest Starbucks.
I had thought about stopping in Duchesne for something to eat, but I wasn't hungry and decided I would wait to see if I was hungry by the time I got to Hanna. I have eaten many times at the Hanna Cafe. I stay west bound on highway 40 till its junction with highway 208 and the ride to Tabiona and Hanna. As I head down some fairly tight turns before it flattens out, there are some free range cows to the right side of the road. The yearling's eye me as I ride past. This whole area is pretty and green. From Tabiona till just past Hanna at every house there are Flags Flying. For whatever reason, I find this kind of moving and just before I get to the Hanna Cafe, I decide that I will stop if, I do this quite often; I decide that if so and so is, then I will. Anyway I said to myself that I would stop if there was either a BMW motorcycle or a Ducati at the Cafe. There wasn't so I continued to the mouth of Wolf Creek Canyon and highway 35. I have all ready ridden this road, once this season and for a holiday weekend the traffic is sparse, I had only been on the road for a few miles when a bunch of bikes coming the other way pass me, and there is both a BMW and a Ducati in the pack, Another road with wonderful vistas and sweeping turns. The air is cool and crisp and all is right with the world. Just past the summit (9400+ft) I stop for another drink of water. Down the road a few miles is where a friend Randy Montgomery was killed on a bike back in 1999. It was just a little bit after the road had opened, after the final section had been paved and was in November. I think of all that Randy has missed, the Olympics that he was so looking forward to and his younger children growing up. As I pass Woodland, I waive at my friend John's Cabin, although I don't know which one it is.
The rest of the way home was fairly routine, although the closer I got to the mouth of Parley's canyon the worse the traffic became. As I turn off the road to home the GPS shows 347 miles for today's outing. Not a bad days ride! I did think about Randolph Scott and the movie “Ride the High Country,” I also remember that there is some speculation about his relationship with Cary Grant, who lived with Randolph on and off and between marriages for about 12 years. Maybe Randolph made great chili or it was nice not to have to worry about leaving the toilet see up. Anyway, its still a great western.
