August 9, 1987
Panguitch to Hatch
Sunday, 9AM - 5 miles west of Bryce Canyon. I'm sitting in an unexpectedly clean and satisfying breakfast spot. I had been expecting to have to bike on to Ruby's Inn for a meal when this thing showed up by the side of the road, next to an elegant-looking motel. Its primary drawback is the loud country music station blaring on the radio to my right, and the somewhat surly staff. They seem like a crabby family (actually, it is rather entertaining, watching them bickering with each other - over the radio station, food fights in the kitchen, who has to clean off the tables - yes, it must be a family).
I stayed in Panguich last night until about 8, trying to complete a call back home. Finally I could wait no longer - and, taking heed of the lightning in the distance and the warning of a native Panguichite ("you'd better pitch your tent soon or you'll get your ass wet!"), I rather anxiously headed south and out of town, hoping to find a habitable site before the rains arrived. I made it - just five minutes after sealing myself into my tent the first drops landed. Fortunately I had selected my location well - and when I could soon hear the ground gurgling round me and a creek springing to life, it caused me to worry for awhile but I remained dry.
I awoke early this morning and started riding right away. The early morning ride was lovely - the road follows the pastoral Sevier River through the basin separating the Bryce and Cedar ranges. Red Canyon, an aptly named formation that serves as a gateway to Bryce, was aglow in the sunrise - rays of light streaked down through the clouds across the valley - and half dozen pronghorn antelopes grazed along the stream.
Later in the day - on the side of a trail in Bryce Canyon. I'm sitting in a wonderfully peaceful spot on the top of a ridge down inside the canyon. I've come down inside far enough to escape most of the tourists, who can be heard occasionally faintly in the distance. The landscape is spectacular for 360 degrees around. It is quite similar to The Breaks - the same geological formations are exposed here, but on a much larger scale. Far in the distnce to the northeast lie Table Cliffs Plateau and the Escalante Mountains, looking like my mental vision of the Grand Canyon. A thunderhed appears to be dropping rain over there (and in fact that looks like a prospect here as well - I wonder whether I will be needing to find a cave before long). Sharing this ridge with me is a gnarled, lustrous silver bristlecone. It is anchored to the highest point on the ridge - causing me to wonder how many years it has extended the life of this ridge through its tenacity. The pine and fir trees here look almost shockingly green when the sun sets them off against their pink backdop. There is an exquisite intensity to all of the colors here.
A bit later, and further down into the canyon, my weather premonitions were fulfilled. I was hiking the Peek-a-Boo loop trail when a sudden thunderstorm brought rain and hail to the trail. It was comforting to sit inside of a cave, peering out at the hail bouncing off the rock formations surrounding me. The storm passed after a few minutes, and I emerged - but for the balance of the hike I kept mental track of the last sheltered spot I passed, just in case.
The balance of the day was really leisurely. I took my time on the way back down to the Sevier River from Bryce, stopping frequently - for a snack, to wash my hair at a rest stop, to have a cup of coffee while I waited out a short rainstorm. Back at the river again, I headed upriver and upwind, south toward Zion. I biked a few more miles, then took a break at a deligtful spot at a bend in the river. Then several more miles and a stop for pie in Hatch.
Today's ride: 55 miles (89 km)
Total: 115 miles (185 km)
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