Day Twenty: Zion National Park - Glendale

Last night’s storm left every inch of our bodies and belongings a damp, muddy mess. We woke up feeling absolutely disgusting, and headed straight into town to find a Laundromat. Our best option was to steal the laundry facilities from the Quality Inn, and so we did. Unfortunately, sleeping bags were strictly prohibited from the dryers, and we were informed that they would be confiscated and we would be charged $50 if we were to put them in there, so we dealt with dewy sleeping bags for one more day. We grabbed one last mug of coffee from Deep Creek Coffee (finally, our last trip—they must have been sick of seeing us), folded our laundry and packed up our belongings before saying goodbye to Cody and his family and heading out of Zion.

We had a steep (and I mean steeeeeep) 4-mile climb to get out of the canyon before reaching the famous tunnel. The tunnel is strictly regulated to prevent oversized vehicles from entering, as it is dark, narrow, and short. The park ranger at the tunnel entrance told us to hop in with a truck passing through, so we waited to find the next available pickup with an open bed and empty seats. While waiting, we chatted with two motorcyclists, one of which had a mighty fine antique Harley (Slater was drooling). Car after car passed by before we finally spotted a burgundy-colored truck to save the day. Scott and Deborah, the couple driving, instantly picked up that we needed a ride through, and they dropped their tailgate to throw our bikes in the back. They were an enthusiastic and energetic couple, and it was refreshing to have their company after the doozy of a climb that we encountered just minutes before. We drove through the tunnel, wound through canyons and mesas, and eventually found ourselves passing through the national park exit. Scott began to pull aside to drop us off, but Deborah was quick to remind him, “Aren’t we going to see the buffalos?!”

Oh, the buffalos. Just outside the park exit was an enormous farm filled with furry, fatty buffalos. The second I laid eyes on the beasts, I realized that never in my life have I seen a real, live buffalo—and let’s be real, I was pretty stoked. Deborah was all about it, and she began cat calling them: “Heeeereeee, babies, babies, babies!” At one point, they started stampeding over to us and I just about peed, remembering a certain scene in The Lion King… does anyone else remember that? We spent a few minutes admiring their giant heads and double chins, then thanked Scott and Deborah and headed on our way. We rode for what felt like hours, then stopped in at a trading post in Carmel Junction, UT. Subway was the main attraction, as we weren’t too keen on the fact that the trading post was full of animal pellets and skinned wolves being sold for $3,500. Is that really necessary? I’m not a fan.

We rode further, and came across our fair share of hills. We debated crashing at a campsite in a small town called Glendale, but decided to pedal on for another five miles. Little did we know, those five miles were the WORST—the road proceeded straight uphill and clouds surrounded us, and before we knew it, we were completely drenched. We took cover under a tree for a few minutes, but there was no stopping the storm, so we accepted our fate and rode through the rain. Finally, we arrived at Bryce Zion Campground, a small KOA in the middle of nowhere. Our tent site was next to a green pasture with a cute lil’ colt and two grown horses, and they watched us keenly as we set up camp. The visitors at the campground were wonderfully friendly, especially a man named Gary and his buddy, who were two beach bum-lookin’ fellas driving their Ford sport van from Los Angeles to Santa Fe. Gary was stacked with cool gear (Slater notes: a Patagonia Sunto wach, Mountain Khaki pants, etc.), and he gave us advice on riding through New Mexico while watching us cook our gourmet meal: Rice-A-Roni burritos with refried beans, chips, and salsa. He even offered to give us a ride to an REI once we reach New Mexico so that we can trade in our tent, which was eaten by a squirrel. Lovely. We spent time with the two around camp before falling into a food coma and drifting asleep.