White Rim 2019
May. 2nd, 2019 04:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ilanaramaOur friend Ryan puts a White Rim trip together pretty much every year, and because she likes us :-) we get to go pretty much every year: I've posted here about 2017, 2016, and 2013 (and we also did it last year, though I only mentioned it briefly in a general post, and we did it twice with other groups when we lived in Boulder in the 1990s). This year's trip was only two nights as opposed to the three we had always previously taken for the ~100 miles; we went clockwise, which we'd only done once before (in 2013). It was just three couples: me and Britt, Ryan and Steve, and Kristin and Rolfe, with whom we have done many vacations before but never the White Rim. Rolfe had done it solo as a one-day trip several times, but this meant he'd never stopped at any of the interesting side-hikes, while Kristin had never been here before, so we were all looking forward to showing them the amazing sights. We also opted to take our Sportsmobile as a support vehicle, which was the first time for it as well.
The reason for compressing the trip into three days, and going clockwise, was so that we could camp at White Crack, which is usually a lunch stop for us. But this meant that the first day would be on the order of 46 miles, so I cheerfully volunteered to drive the first leg from the staging area at the Mineral Bottom Road: paved road to the turnoff for the Shafer Trail just inside Canyonlands National Park (the ranger gave me some shit for using Britt's parks pass for the rest of the group riding behind, and apparently gave them some shit as well, but she eventually let everyone in without making anyone pay extra); then down the Shafer Trail switchbacks, which was fortunately not too exciting - I did have to jockey around one tight switchback, but luckily I could see ahead enough to use the pull-outs to avoid oncoming traffic, as I wasn't too thrilled about the possibility of having to back up to a pull-out, as uphill traffic has right of way on these twisty one-lane roads; and then along the 4wd shelf road to Musselman Arch, where I traded off with Kristin.
Even after having driven the first 17 or so miles, it was a long way to camp, especially since the weather was dark and threatening; there was a bit of drizzle and a lot of wind, which (of course) was usually in our faces. But it made for some dramatic photos, as the Indian paintbrush seemed to glow against the dark clouds:
On the spur to the White Crack camp I spotted an unusual rock that looked like some strange creature:
Total distance of the portion I rode was 29.2 miles as per my Garmin. Now that I'm using Strava you can see the ride on a map. (There's an elevation chart, too, but I'm a bit dubious, considering that Strava claims I ended the first day at 5430' and began the second day at 5180'...)
We took a brief hike to the White Crack pillars, but raced back to camp when we looked back and saw a storm coming. It turned out to be more of a dust and wind storm than a rain storm, but it made putting up tents difficult, and Britt and I were glad to have our Sportsmobile! So was everyone else as we all hunkered down inside, eating dinner while the weather passed. In the morning we hiked out again and explored the old jeep road that drops improbably from the rim level into the badlands below.
After packing up we rode back out to the main road and toward Murphy Hogback. Ryan had said this would be net downhill, and my Strava track confirms this, but there were sure a lot of short and steep uphills along the way. I made most of them, but I did have to walk a few loose steep inclines near the top, and then of course there was the main Murphy's climb. I remember walking most of it when we'd done it in this direction in 2013; this time I ended up bailing early in the first climb, but I was able to start up again after walking just a little bit, and then I managed to ride the rest of the way, though I had to stop on all the flattish spots to catch my breath. (Possibly it is easier hitting it NOT at the end of the day...) After I got to the top I walked back down with my phone to take a few photos of Britt driving the van up, but honestly it doesn't look nearly as fearsome in the picture as it does in person.
We had lunch on the rocks at the far end of the Murphy's camp and tried to keep our cool as Murphy's had become a total zoo. Trucks driving up from both sides, lots and lots of motorcycles, and even a few other bicycles either went by or stopped to take pictures and have lunch. One driver went down the other side despite us all yelling at him that there was another truck coming up, couldn't he see that? And sure enough they met, and the uphill guy managed to get into a pullout even though he had the right of way, because the downhill idiot wasn't budging. One guy rode his motorcycle between us where we were hanging out, which was totally unnecessary. Another van set up their lunch spot right next to us, ditto ditto. Maybe it was because it was Saturday, but ugh.
After lunch came a lot of loose and sandy descent, interspersed with sharp uphills, as we made our way to Holeman Slot. It was completely dry so we were able to follow it all the way to where things got scary, at which point we sensibly backtracked. (I didn't bring my phone/camera, but there are pictures of it in the 2017 album and the 2016 album.) We also stopped at the Black Crack, which we jumped over to get to the great views of the Turk's Head pillar formation on the other side, before continuing on to our camp at Potato Bottom, a 31-mile day.
We had much better weather this evening, and were able to play bocce (as always on Ryan's trips!) and have our dinner in the camp chairs instead of huddled in the Sportsmobile.
The last morning started with the tough climb up Hardscrabble, the core of which is just under 400 feet in just over a mile, which had apparently been graded since last year, because the scary sandy rutted bit that I walked down last year was flat enough to ride up - not that I actually made it more than halfway up before bailing due to extreme steepitude. But despite walking three short sections, I rode up a lot more than I had expected I would. (Strava track.)
We swapped to hiking shoes for the trail to Fort Bottom, i.e., after climbing up away from the river on our bikes we hiked back down. But it's a nifty trail, and as we were dedicated to showing Rolfe and Kristin all the cool stuff for their first time, we had to do this one, too. (Strava track.)
We went all the way to the ruins of the old cabin near the river, which was built in 1895 to serve as a stop for people on their way down the river to a proposed tuberculosis sanitarium at the Green and Colorado confluence (that was never built), and used by local cowboys and river travelers to about 1940. Then we hiked back up to take the spur to the ancestral Puebloan ruin (built ~1000 years ago) on the top of the ridge inside the river meander.
The descent down the backside of Hardscrabble was as steep and sandy as the descent off Murphy's, but after a few more ups and downs the road settled into being mostly flat (though also sometimes sandy). At the base of the Mineral Bottom switchbacks (here is a picture from 2017) I took over driving, making this trip 2 for 2 driving the big switchbacks. (Honestly, I volunteered for both of these segments partly because the road surface is fairly smooth on them, making them in my mind much easier than the 4WD rim road.) This time I got around all the curves easily, though I did have one somewhat nervous moment when I came around a corner and found myself face-to-face (so to speak) with a big truck pulling a boat trailer. I was close to a wide spot where I could pull off, though it meant pulling off close to the edge - fortunately Kristin was in the shotgun seat to tell me how much room I had! (Spoiler alert: we did not plunge to our deaths.)
Ryan and Steve were already at the top; we waited for Britt and Rolfe, who were not that far behind the van, and then we had a late lunch. I turned the Sportsmobile over to Kristin for the last 13 miles to the parking area where we'd left the other vehicles, a gently-rolling uphill dirt road. The others quickly left me in their dust as a storm rolled in, but I made it to the parking lot just as the first raindrops started pattering down. (The last two Strava maps: along the river and across the top. Total for the day was a little over 25 miles of riding plus a little under 4 hiking.)
We stopped in Moab for an early dinner before the drive back to Durango, which for me consisted of a brownie sundae with piles of whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and I have no regrets. :-)
Flickr album with these plus a few more photos (and no blah blah)
The reason for compressing the trip into three days, and going clockwise, was so that we could camp at White Crack, which is usually a lunch stop for us. But this meant that the first day would be on the order of 46 miles, so I cheerfully volunteered to drive the first leg from the staging area at the Mineral Bottom Road: paved road to the turnoff for the Shafer Trail just inside Canyonlands National Park (the ranger gave me some shit for using Britt's parks pass for the rest of the group riding behind, and apparently gave them some shit as well, but she eventually let everyone in without making anyone pay extra); then down the Shafer Trail switchbacks, which was fortunately not too exciting - I did have to jockey around one tight switchback, but luckily I could see ahead enough to use the pull-outs to avoid oncoming traffic, as I wasn't too thrilled about the possibility of having to back up to a pull-out, as uphill traffic has right of way on these twisty one-lane roads; and then along the 4wd shelf road to Musselman Arch, where I traded off with Kristin.
Even after having driven the first 17 or so miles, it was a long way to camp, especially since the weather was dark and threatening; there was a bit of drizzle and a lot of wind, which (of course) was usually in our faces. But it made for some dramatic photos, as the Indian paintbrush seemed to glow against the dark clouds:
On the spur to the White Crack camp I spotted an unusual rock that looked like some strange creature:
Total distance of the portion I rode was 29.2 miles as per my Garmin. Now that I'm using Strava you can see the ride on a map. (There's an elevation chart, too, but I'm a bit dubious, considering that Strava claims I ended the first day at 5430' and began the second day at 5180'...)
We took a brief hike to the White Crack pillars, but raced back to camp when we looked back and saw a storm coming. It turned out to be more of a dust and wind storm than a rain storm, but it made putting up tents difficult, and Britt and I were glad to have our Sportsmobile! So was everyone else as we all hunkered down inside, eating dinner while the weather passed. In the morning we hiked out again and explored the old jeep road that drops improbably from the rim level into the badlands below.
After packing up we rode back out to the main road and toward Murphy Hogback. Ryan had said this would be net downhill, and my Strava track confirms this, but there were sure a lot of short and steep uphills along the way. I made most of them, but I did have to walk a few loose steep inclines near the top, and then of course there was the main Murphy's climb. I remember walking most of it when we'd done it in this direction in 2013; this time I ended up bailing early in the first climb, but I was able to start up again after walking just a little bit, and then I managed to ride the rest of the way, though I had to stop on all the flattish spots to catch my breath. (Possibly it is easier hitting it NOT at the end of the day...) After I got to the top I walked back down with my phone to take a few photos of Britt driving the van up, but honestly it doesn't look nearly as fearsome in the picture as it does in person.
We had lunch on the rocks at the far end of the Murphy's camp and tried to keep our cool as Murphy's had become a total zoo. Trucks driving up from both sides, lots and lots of motorcycles, and even a few other bicycles either went by or stopped to take pictures and have lunch. One driver went down the other side despite us all yelling at him that there was another truck coming up, couldn't he see that? And sure enough they met, and the uphill guy managed to get into a pullout even though he had the right of way, because the downhill idiot wasn't budging. One guy rode his motorcycle between us where we were hanging out, which was totally unnecessary. Another van set up their lunch spot right next to us, ditto ditto. Maybe it was because it was Saturday, but ugh.
After lunch came a lot of loose and sandy descent, interspersed with sharp uphills, as we made our way to Holeman Slot. It was completely dry so we were able to follow it all the way to where things got scary, at which point we sensibly backtracked. (I didn't bring my phone/camera, but there are pictures of it in the 2017 album and the 2016 album.) We also stopped at the Black Crack, which we jumped over to get to the great views of the Turk's Head pillar formation on the other side, before continuing on to our camp at Potato Bottom, a 31-mile day.
We had much better weather this evening, and were able to play bocce (as always on Ryan's trips!) and have our dinner in the camp chairs instead of huddled in the Sportsmobile.
The last morning started with the tough climb up Hardscrabble, the core of which is just under 400 feet in just over a mile, which had apparently been graded since last year, because the scary sandy rutted bit that I walked down last year was flat enough to ride up - not that I actually made it more than halfway up before bailing due to extreme steepitude. But despite walking three short sections, I rode up a lot more than I had expected I would. (Strava track.)
We swapped to hiking shoes for the trail to Fort Bottom, i.e., after climbing up away from the river on our bikes we hiked back down. But it's a nifty trail, and as we were dedicated to showing Rolfe and Kristin all the cool stuff for their first time, we had to do this one, too. (Strava track.)
We went all the way to the ruins of the old cabin near the river, which was built in 1895 to serve as a stop for people on their way down the river to a proposed tuberculosis sanitarium at the Green and Colorado confluence (that was never built), and used by local cowboys and river travelers to about 1940. Then we hiked back up to take the spur to the ancestral Puebloan ruin (built ~1000 years ago) on the top of the ridge inside the river meander.
The descent down the backside of Hardscrabble was as steep and sandy as the descent off Murphy's, but after a few more ups and downs the road settled into being mostly flat (though also sometimes sandy). At the base of the Mineral Bottom switchbacks (here is a picture from 2017) I took over driving, making this trip 2 for 2 driving the big switchbacks. (Honestly, I volunteered for both of these segments partly because the road surface is fairly smooth on them, making them in my mind much easier than the 4WD rim road.) This time I got around all the curves easily, though I did have one somewhat nervous moment when I came around a corner and found myself face-to-face (so to speak) with a big truck pulling a boat trailer. I was close to a wide spot where I could pull off, though it meant pulling off close to the edge - fortunately Kristin was in the shotgun seat to tell me how much room I had! (Spoiler alert: we did not plunge to our deaths.)
Ryan and Steve were already at the top; we waited for Britt and Rolfe, who were not that far behind the van, and then we had a late lunch. I turned the Sportsmobile over to Kristin for the last 13 miles to the parking area where we'd left the other vehicles, a gently-rolling uphill dirt road. The others quickly left me in their dust as a storm rolled in, but I made it to the parking lot just as the first raindrops started pattering down. (The last two Strava maps: along the river and across the top. Total for the day was a little over 25 miles of riding plus a little under 4 hiking.)
We stopped in Moab for an early dinner before the drive back to Durango, which for me consisted of a brownie sundae with piles of whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and I have no regrets. :-)
Flickr album with these plus a few more photos (and no blah blah)