Aug 5, Evanston to Vernal. 150 mi, 8500 ft.

Today--exhilarating and exhausting. We got our first taste of real mountain riding today, up and down the foothills, settling into a rhythm on the longer climbs, swooping down a descent only to go up again, finally reaching the summit (yesterday's was almost 8500 ft) then ending with a long, unbridled descent. Beginning in arid, high desert surroundings, as we moved up the desert got green, then small trees, then a full fledged pine/fir forest, then above, into the aspens. And this was all after lunch!

Our 150 mile route from Evanston to Vernal began with 28 miles on I-80, exiting at Fort Bridger to hook up with WY414, which became UT44 and took us through the Flaming Gorge NRA. The first 91 miles to lunch had about 45% of the climbing, mostly gentle grades through this really desolate land, dry, dusty; then sedimentary rock formations began to appear, and just as I realized we were in Dinosaur country these helpful signs began to sprout up, identifying the formation and what was found there. We came up a bit of a longer pull and came into the high, green valley of Manila, Utah. It was hot and I'd emptied one bottle already, so I stopped off for a refill. "You must be in pretty good shape," a voice said. "Not bad for an old guy," I responded to the group of motorcyclists. The conversation about what we were doing led to a look of admiration, a heartfelt "God Bless You," and a recommendation to avoid the 7-11 restaurant (good advice, but we ate there anyway because it was the closest place).

After Manila a climb led to a steep 2 mile descent through a canyon to the lunch spot by a river; the longest sustained climb (maybe 4-5 miles) was right after lunch, yielding fantastic views of brightly colored cliffs with salty looking water at the bottom. And crossing over the first summit took us right into the woods; as if a page was turned, and launched us into the mountains. The last descent took us down 3000 feet around ten swooping brake-free turns, back into the furnace of the high desert. And of course, because it's Pac Tour, the final ten miles were straight into a set of ferocious headwinds. I hated that! After a long and otherwise rewarding day on the bike, dealing with that B.S. really pissed me off, and I was screaming at the wind to stop at once! (surprisingly, it didn't make a bit of difference.) Even though it added at most ten more minutes to an 11 hour ride, it felt very unjust. It provided the final emphasis on how huge this world is we are riding through, and how the huge amount of effort it takes to accomplish this ride means nothing to the world--the only meaning is internal.

Easy day tomorrow; 52 miles to Rangely, CO. Not leaving till 9!