Sailboat races are generally on a triangular course with an upwind, a beat, and a downwind leg. My trip, too, has the three-legged layout with the initial long run in a WNW direction from Minneapolis to Glacier, then a turn southward and zigzagging my way to Utah where I make the final turn to the northeast and the finish line. Still I don't want to get ahead of myself. There is a lot of hard riding - over 1,200 miles- ahead of me, at least the prevailing westerlies should be at my back.
Monday's route from Idaho Falls to Salt Lake City was entirely on interstate freeways where speeds are higher and road conditions are excellent. The challenge was the weather - temperatures in the low 60s and a wall of rainclouds moving right-to-left ahead of me.
I stopped at a Harley-Davidson dealer in Idaho Falls and bought a new pair of insulated and waterproof riding gloves - I do not want a repeat of the rainy ride Saturday morning when my hands were soaked and the cold cut to the bone. There is a saying that H-D stands for "hundred dollars"; the new gloves weren't cheap but the quality shows.
I rode for an hour quite comfortably in my multilayered outfit. Twenty miles from the Utah border I could see the deep grey of a veil of rain filling the valley ahead. I pulled off and searched the town for a laundromat where I could productively wait it out - but there was none to be found. I ended up eating an early lunch at a Burger King.
The Wasatch Range towered to the left side as I rode through Utah. Snow was plainly visible above the treeline of the 12,000 foot peaks. I made another brief pause to let the weather run out of my path and into those mountains. The sun was breaking through as I made my way to Salt Lake City. I pulled into the downtown area and rode by the Mormon Temple area and the state capitol building.
There are several routes from Salt Lake to my destination for the night in Park City. Interstate 80 is the tamest of them, the southern route through Sundance is the longest, and the winding road up the Big Cottonwood Canyon is the wildest and most direct. I chose the canyon route and the ride up was exciting and absolutely beautiful between towering walls of stone. A gentle rain fell intermittently, but it didn't bother me at all.
There are two ski resorts near the top of the canyon, after them the road makes a hard left turn up to the Guardsman Pass. As I crested the summit, two cars were parked by the roadside and mountain bikers in spandex shorts .
Immediately past that point, the road turns to gravel. "Aw crap", I thought.
A Harley-Davidson motorcycle is not like those spidery motocross bikes. No, those dirt bikes are lightweight and designed for agility with knobby tires and a lot of ground clearance. My motorcycle, on the other hand weighs well over six hundred pounds even before loading it with gasoline, camping gear, clothes, tools, and me. And the tires are relatively smooth to give good traction of pavement.
I talked to the mountain bikers and they told me it wasn't that bad of a stretch of road and that they would go for it. And so I took the recommendation of crazy guys in spandex and headed down the gravel trail.
The most tense moment came when I realized that my rear brake had failed from overheating. From that point on I relied more on using first gear to slow my descent and the rear brake began responding again after it had a chance to cool down.
An hour later I rode into Park City and headed straight for the No Name Saloon on Main Street. I earned that beer.
Today's goal: Casper WY.
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