Wednesday, June 22, 2011

This stretch of highway is maintained by: Groovavicious

(Actual highway sign just before entering Cedar City, Utah)

Last night I slept in hotel, with an emphasis on the H. With the exception of being hosted by warmshowers folks, Chris and I have spent the majority of our nights in campsites with so many bugs we looked like a mad puppeteer was making us a slap ourselves in the face. And motels that look like the murder scene from a lifetime movie. With clean sheets, clean towels, and several working light bulbs, this joint was the epitome of luxury.

In the morning, we met Matt and Johnny for breakfast at the diner adjacent to the Hotel. We had a lively breakfast, asked about families, and planned our trip to the Grand Canyon. Chris and I left town late, thinking we had an easy, one hill day. We made it Cedar City around four, but not without a fight. We had horrendous wind and 95 degree heat. (But it's a dry heat. I am required to say.)

Due to the fact that Chris descends at death-defying speeds, we have an agreement that I ride caboose. For the duration of the last 20 miles, I listened to Paul Simon's "Graceland" at full blast and did a bike dance the likes of which you have never seen. (And will never see.) It keeps me loose.

Tonight we are staying at a KOA, which is the capital H of camping. There have a pool, gorgeous roach-free showers, and a man who looks like a third member of Hall and Oates who patrols hourly on a golf cart at top speed. We met a lovely couple from Hawaii who bestowed upon me some awesomely dorky riding goggles. I successfully made tuna helper!!! On the ground!!! With nothing but a spoon and a sterno!!! I am a mountain woman. And not to be foxed with.

Matt and Johnny left hmmmm, six or seven hours after us. So, we are now waiting with feet in the pool for the two of these clowns to arrive. Tomorrow, on to the Grand Canyon.


  1. These are a lot funnier when you're having a lousy time. Not that I want that to happen. I don't. It would be best if you could put in some colorful descriptions of saddle rash or toe fungus. Maybe a reminiscence of the folks you left back home. Something like that.



  2. Oy! You should see the fungus!

  3. So, the folks back home remind you of toe fungus?



    P.S. You do sound more chipper. Excellent.

  4. I am Father Fungus.

    Hey! I didn't know you were dipping south to AZ. I thought you were going across UT. You're making some hellacious time if you're in GC Village!


    Father Fungus