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The Herald June 9, 1989
Last miles of bicycle journey most desolate
On April 14, Rusty Forrest embarked on a cross-country bicycle trip from Rock
Hill to Salt Lake City, Utah. These are the last days he recorded along the
road.
Day 27
Wednesday, May 10, 47 miles from Fort Collins to Indian Meadow, Colo.
Rolling out of Fort Collins, I was amazed at how abruptly the Rockies begin. At
the base, you could go back and forth in the road, saying, "Now I'm in the
Rockies, now I'm not." Only a mile or two past the base the scenery is far more
dramatic than the most rugged part of the Smokies.
Highway 14 follows the banks of the Poudre (pronounced "Pooder") River, and the
river valley produced a wonderfully gradual climb up to 7,200 feet. The river
valley is a sharp cut through the mountains, and there is always a 500 or
600-hundred-foot cliff looming upwards on both sides of the river.
Everybody here drives slow thanks to an intimidating lack of guardrails. A
two-foot shoulder separates the pavement from a 40-foot drop to the river on one
side, and there's a solid rock cliff on the other side of the road, equally
close. This mountain road would be no place to manhandle a Porsche.
The locals say the climb up to Cameron Pass (elev. 10,276) is a killer. I hope
it's not actually that, but the air in Indian Meadow seems thin, and I'm only
two-thirds of the way up. Tomorrow will tell.
Assessment: Kansas was beautiful, but this is heaven. Fort Collins has more
bicycles than cars. Forgive me if I decide to never come home.
Day 28
Thursday, May 11, 60 miles from Indian Meadow to Walden, Colo.
The 30-mile climb from Indian Meadow to Cameron Pass proved to be the hardest
thing I have ever done. In increasingly thin air, the grade was continually
steeper for the last 10 miles. Near the summit it began to snow, a result of
the low temperatures and wildly changing conditions at this altitude.
I pushed myself harder than I ever have to see the sign, Cameron
Pass-Summit-10,276 Feet. The summit was only a few hundred feet below the tree
line, the elevation where trees refuse to grow. The surrounding peaks were bald
on top and covered with snow.
The descent down the back side into Walden was made more interesting by a huge
thunderstorm that stayed glued to my tail. Without a tailwind and a downhill, I
would have fallen dead before reaching Walden.
Assessment: My body is thoroughly trashed. The climb over Cameron Pass has
forced a day off for recuperation. As bad as I feel right now, I don't care if
I reach Salt Lake City or not. Rest is imperative.
Day 29
Friday, May 12, Rest Day, Walden, Colo.
Walden is situated in a wide valley between two ranges of snow-capped
mountains. The weather in the valley is chaotic. Today I watched rain,
lightning, sleet, snow and hail, along with wild temperature swings.
Day 30
Saturday, May 13, 64 miles from Walden to Steamboat Springs, Colo.
I was thankful for yesterday's rest as I climbed 40 miles to Rabbit Ears Pass, a
major hill but no contest for Cameron. Near the Continental Divide, I saw a
herd of mule deer and a huge golden eagle. Over the pass and down into the
beautiful Yampa Valley, I was going 40 mph when I ran through a large area of
missing pavement. The jolt knocked the water bottle out of my front rack, and
more bad spots called for the use of brakes the rest of the way. A long
dreamed-of 60 mph descent out of the Rockies would not materialize.
Assessment: Steamboat Springs is a gorgeous ski resort. I'd like to stay a
while and soak in the atmosphere.
Day 31
Sunday, May 14, 43 miles from Steamboat Springs to Craig, Colo.
I was six miles out of Steamboat when the 40-degree sky began to rain. A few
minutes later there was some sleet mixed in and a headwind drove this concoction
into my face with authority. I rode 15 miles in this mess. When the
precipitation stopped, the temperature fell even further. I was wet and
miserable, and my feet and hands may never thaw out.
Assessment: I'll gladly take 43 miles on a day that was a scrub.
Day 32
Monday, May 15, 88 miles from Craig to Dinosaur, Colo.
This day set a new record for empty landscape. If there had been no motel at
Dinosaur, I could not have reached Vernal, Utah, (the next town) before dark. I
faced tough headwind and grueling hills all day. I rode through two rain
showers, and got stranded in a full-scale hailstorm. I huddled behind a forest
service sign as the pea-sized hailstones pelted my helmet and piled up on the
ground. Such is the nature of grand adventure.
Assessment: This trip could be called Tour de Desolation. I find it hard to
imagine just how far from home I really am.
Day 33
Tuesday, May 16, 35 miles from Dinosaur to Vernal, Utah.
More headwinds, more hills, and more unstable weather cut this day short. It
took me all morning to grind it to Vernal, and I arrived just ahead of some
awesome thunderstorms that were forming in the mountains. Over lunch, I met a
local biker who described the hills and desolation that awaits between Vernal
and Salt Lake City, 175 miles away.
If I am to pedal into Salt Lake, a Friday arrival is a logistical must. The
weather, the terrain and my overall condition add up to make this a dangerous
trip to try. If I get hung out in the wind, I'll miss my non-changeable flight
home.
At 2,216 miles from Rock Hill, I decide that I'm through riding with apparent
days left over. Vernal is the last chance I have to comfortably and predictably
end this trip on my own terms. From here I can ship my bike home and ride a bus
over the mountains to meet the plane. I can only thank the Lord at the end of a
safe and epic journey.
Day 34
Wednesday, May 17, Vernal, Utah.
On the tail end of a 10-mile recreational ride with some local guys, my rear
derailleur self-destructed. My decision to stop in Vernal was even better than
I knew.
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