Dove Creek to Blanding, UT Tue 7/21/2015

     Now I'm starting to get nervous about the unknown ahead of me across this vast area of southern Utah.  I was briefed by my home teacher, Lonnie White, about some of the mountains I would be crossing.  He grew up in Kanab, Utah and had hunted and fished in many of these mountains.

Leaving Dove Creek and heading for Utah just after sunrise.

This ride is so much like a football game.  I coached football for 27 years so it's easy for me to see this as a comparison to football.  This ride is all about one hill at a time, one town at a time and one day at a time, when you've reached your destination for that day.  With football it's one play at a time, one first down at a time, move the chains again and you're closer to the goal line.  When I'm planning how far I can get that day I'm in the huddle.  When I clip my left foot into the pedal I'm at the line of scrimmage.  (I always clip left foot first)  When I push down on that pedal the ball just got snapped and the play is on.  When I passed that sign above I just scored a touchdown.  I just defeated another opponent, Colorado, and now I'm going to take on Utah.  And some unexpected things are going to happen during this game with Utah.

A field being prepared for some kind of crop.  No farmer around to ask what he's going to plant.

Monticello, Utah is somewhere over there near that mountain.  This is a nice road to ride on, smooth, wide shoulder and you can see for miles the air is so clean.

Not a fancy farm, but it's a farm.

There's Monticello.  When I get to the middle of that town I turn south toward Blanding.  I have to make Blanding tonight to cut 22 miles off my ride tomorrow.  If I stay in Monticello tonight then I'll have to ride 96 miles tomorrow to make it to Lake Powell.  Staying in Blanding is my only option as I see it.

World travelers from France.

Their planned route will eventually take them from Seattle, down the west coast of US, Mexico, Central America, west coast of South America, up the east coast of South America, then home to France.  They must be crazier than I am.  After I made a donation to their plight then I got to thinking, maybe they're homeless and this is how they survive.  They're not sleeping in the same park every night.

Pronounced (Mon-ti-chello).  Thomas Jefferson would be offended if you pronounced it (Mon-ti-sello).

I think this country is beautiful.

See what I mean?

On the way to Blanding.  More good road,  It's nice and cool out here today.  You know, even though I've been rained on a few times, I've yet to have a bad day of riding.  The only real bad days for riding weather wise, I just stayed in the motel another day. 

Dolores to Dove Creek, CO Mon 7/20/2015

     Today is decision time.  I'm getting close to running out of time to be able to make it to San Francisco before I have to be back in Mesa, Arizona for the start of school.  In less than two miles there's a junction in the road.  Do I stay on State Route 145 to Cortez, Colorado and head for home  through the Navajo Reservation via Kayenta, Tuba City, Flagstaff, and Payson?  Or do I turn right  and head northwest on State Route 184 to Dove Creek, Colorado and then across southern Utah and continue on to San Francisco?  My calculations tell me I can make it if I average 50 miles a day.  Now I''m thinking, I can do this.  So I turned right and steered my tires onto SR 184 asphalt.

I stopped at a gas station just out of Dolores to buy a highway map of Utah, and as I was about to leave I met Bryan Myers from the Dallas, Texas area.  He was transplanted there from Pennsylvania and he's riding the same route to San Francisco as I am.  He said  he'd ride along with me for a little while, but I told him don't let me slow you down if you have a schedule you have to meet.  Soon he was getting further and further into the distance ahead of me and then I lost sight of him.  We met up a couple more times.  Once at Hite Marina at Lake Powell and again at Hanksville, Utah.

Bryan texted me this picture on August 9th with this message:  "Larry, this is Bryan.  Rode across the Golden Gate Bridge today...you'll have to do it...great fun!  Feet in the Pacific yesterday.  Emotional when I first saw water!  Your turn soon!!!  You have my admiration Larry. Glad our paths crossed.  Bryan."  I was very glad our paths crossed, too.

Narraguinnep Reservoir west of Dolores, CO.

Sleeping Ute Mountain near Cortez, CO

Cultivating in process.

The area between Dolores and Dove Creek, CO is touted as the pinto bean capital of the world.

More farmland.

Sprinklers watering the thirsty crops.

I think this is a alpaca.

Looks like a sunflower seed field.

Pinto bean elevators.

A welcomed motel in Dove Creek, CO.  I'll be in Utah in a few miles.

Sunday in Dolores, CO Sun 7/19/2015

 

     Logged in on my computer to "lds.org"and found three wards in Cortez.  One chapel was about 10 miles from my motel in Dolores and the ward boundaries included Dolores.  Called Bishop McGee of that ward and he said he'd find someone to pick me up and take me to church.  In visiting with Bishop McGee I asked if he was related to Charlie McGee and Cliff McGee, two brothers who operated Trading Posts on the Navajo and Hopi Indian Reservations.  One of my best friends in high school was Elwood McGee, son of Charlie.

Left to right:  Father of the two cyclist brothers from Sweden, Lars the motel manager, mother of the two cyclist brothers.  The brothers are riding coast to coast and the parents flew in after they started to be a support vehicle for part of their journey.

Lars, the motel manager is pointing at me as the picture is being taken and saying; "He's the man, he's 76 years old".  Lars was so accommodating, he treated me like royalty.  The name of the motel is The Dolores Mountain Motel.  The red pickup behind us is my ride to take me to church.

Me and Brother Haddaway.  He volunteered to come and pick me up for church when Bishop McGee mentioned there was a cyclist in Dolores who wanted a ride to church.  Brother Haddaway was on the US Olympic Cyclist Team way back when.

Got reacquainted with Richard Harmon.  In one of the meetings at church they asked any visitors to stand and introduce and tell a little about themselves.  When I sat down Richard spoke up and announced to the audience that I was his 9th grade track coach at Mesa Junior High School.  That was in 1966 or 67, almost 50 years ago.  He invited me to dinner with him and his wife Sherry. We had a great meal and conversation reminiscing about those days and people we knew.  That's what old people do, you know.  I was amazed to learn that Sherry's father was at one time a member of the US Navy Blue Angels Flight Demonstration Squadron.  

Today's Blue Angel Squadron

Telluride to Dolores, CO Sat 7/18/2015

     I knew I had this stretch made because once I got to Lizard Head Pass it was all downhill to Dolores.  What a pleasure it is when you feel you're making progress and you're going to reach your predetermined destination.

Heading down the main street to leave Telluride before too many people are up.

Very nice bike path for about three miles down to the highway from Telluride.

Looking across the valley as I climb out of this valley.  In just a few hours this blue sky turns to clouds, rain, and wind.

Looking back where I came from from Lizard Head Pass.

10,222 ft. elevation and a good tail wind for my descent to Dolores.

Cold, wind and rain, but a good tail wind.  What more can I ask for.

Ridgway to Telluride, CO Fri 7/17/2015

     Been over this road before on my Canada to Mexico ride in 2013.  I knew what to expect from here to Dolores, CO.

This family overheard my phone conversation during breakfast in Ridgway as I was talking to a family member telling them where I was and what my destinations were for the next few days.  They were so nice and complimentary of my venture.  I added them to my memories of wonderful people I've had the privilege of meeting on this journey.

To scan this scene with your eyes when you can feel and smell the fresh mountain air is awesome.

Another beautiful scene.

This picture would would look great on any calendar.

Guess what just happened?  A large cattle truck just whizzed past and sprayed  me with a  mist of cow pee.  One of those moments you never forget.

This man was disabled in the Iraq War and does horseshoe artwork.  I was pushing my bike up a steep grade to the Dallas Divide and had about 500 yards to go when he stopped and offered to take me to the divide in his truck.  I told he I was OK and could make it there.  He insisted that he wanted to help me and I very graciously accepted his offer.  Another of the wonderful people I was able to meet.

This is Paul Potter.  Met him at a gas station/mini-mart/cafe in Placerville.  He had been out hiking a "fourteener". I didn't know what that word meant so I asked him.  A fourteener is a mountain that exceeds 14,000 ft. elevation.  It's his goal to climb as many of those peaks in the US as he can.  I hope I'm accurate in my recollection of that info.  Anyway, the highway from Placerville to Telluride is narrow, fairly steep, not much shoulder for bicycles, a guardrail, plus lots of traffic this time of day.  I remembered this stretch from my previous ride and I had a reservation at the Hotel Columbia in Telluride, so I accepted his offer to take me there in his truck.  Safety wise and the time of day I considered it a no brainer.    Another gracious person I was privileged to meet.  

Overlooking Telluride from the Ski Gondola.

Montrose to Ridgway, CO Thu 7/16/2015

This is the beginning of an uphill climb to Lizard Head Pass (5,807 elevation to 10,222 elevation).  Not only was it the beginning of a long ascent, but the beginning of a very memorable day.

     Met Mr. Romney just as I was preparing to leave the motel in Montrose. He and I have something in common in that our ancestors lived in the "mormon colonies" in Mexico.  My mother, Mary Cardon, was born in Colonia Dublan Chihuahua, Mexico in 1905.  Her family and many other families fled their homes and returned to the southwestern US because of the rebel uprising of Poncho Villa around 1912.
      Mr. Romney came out of the motel and we were talking about my adventure when I told him about my blog site and gave him my business card that had my blog site stamped on the back.  He turned the card over and saw that I was a "Sexual Awareness and Dating Abuse and Violence Prevention Educator" in Mesa Public Schools in Mesa, Arizona.  He started asking questions about those subjects and what really piqued his interest was that the sexual awareness program is abstinence based and that the abuse and violence prevention was being taught in the public schools, and that I had been teaching those subjects for twenty-seven years and fifteen years respectfully.  I was having to do too much explaining off the top of my head so I asked if he would like to see the power point presentations on my laptop.  We sat on a bench under the canopy at the entrance into the motel for over three hours and talking about those subjects.  It was almost noon when we parted and I was back on the road. The late start put me a day behind in my travels, but I didn't mind as it all worked out perfect in the end. And besides, it was great conversation and had relevancy in his life.  It was one of the most memorable days of my trip, how the timing worked out that brought us together at that moment and we talked about things that were of such interest and perhaps help to him.

I like it when the flags are blowing in this direction. It means the wind is at my back.

Overlooking the outskirts of Ridgway, CO with more ominous clouds and rocky mountains to the west, the direction  I'm   traveling.

Downtown Ridgway and the beautiful Rocky Mountains.  Reminds me of John Denver's song "Rocky Mountain High".

This concert going on in Ridgway is why there were no vacancies in any of the motels and I ended up
 sleeping "down by the riverside".

Met this young man, a high school student, as he was straightening the shroud lines of his paraglider.

Getting it ready for his next glide.

Giovanni Boyd-Bonanno.  He wants to be a pilot.  I told him what I tell my students at school about dreams and goals. That a dream is a goal without work and a goal is a dream with work.  I told him about my grandson-in-law, Curtis Hall, married to my granddaughter, Chelsea, who aspired to be a pilot and that he just went to work on that dream and turned it very quickly into a goal and eventually into a reality.  He now flies a Lear Jet.

This is one of the Lear Jets Curtis Hall flies.  He refers to it as his home away from home.

The Uncompahgre River.  About 50 yards from where I slept that night.  Cool temperatures during the night caused dew to seep into my bedroll. 

My outdoor motel in Ridgeway.