sign in sign up
<<
Home , Cedar Mesa, Comb Ridge, Comb Wash, Valley of the Gods

Story by NICK LEGAN Photos by ERIC GREENE RIDE to RUINS

Storm clouds build over as the author makes his way along the red dirt of Butler Wash Road in search of ancient art.

22 ADVENTURE CYCLIST m a rch 2017 A COTTONWOOD NATURAL R C 5 9 MILLSITE BRIDGES H . y NATIONAL C 95 A w

MONUMENT MULE H 95 N

CANYON Y d 276 O l RUINS N O To Blanding 95 hen the wind I began exploring the area on foot with

E

KANE GULCH 95 RANGER STATION G really came up, I Eric. There were plenty of cow pies but

D wished that I had also some depicting past

A I brought a pair of lives and symbols of virility (or ancient S R W goggles along. I wanted to adolescence).

E

B carry as much momentum Those rock drawings, as well as the

M MOONHOUSE RUINS .

d

R M as possible through the cliff dwellings and pottery from the same h s

a W O

loose sandy sections of era, are what brought me to southeast b

Sn .

R ow d

F m o l R a C

261 C t R h this rarely traveled road, for several days of bikepacking and A d . s

a

W

r but spotting the next hiking. As a Midwestern youngster, my D

e

l

t

u E RIDE to RUINS B opportunity for a spill was uncle had stirred my imagination with

C tough with the swirling stories of his adventures in America’s

N V O a ll Y e layer of blown sand over Southwest, along with his brother and my y N of th A e .191

C G WOLFMAN o Blu the road’s entire surface. aunt. They included tales of whitewater, S d MOKI s PANEL ! 162

N R

H DUGWAY d J O F . .191 That blowing sand was hot springs, red dirt, and vanished O S Y D 163 E O . also slowly exfoliating any civilizations. L 191 L G r . 261 ive A E R MULEY V H exposed skin, and trying T an POINT J u an S to invade my lungs, my Comb Ridge N ! GOOSENECKS Salt Lake City STATE ears, and, of course, my Away from the well-traveled trails of PARK U T A H eyes. Pulling my cycling Moab to the north, I started my three-day 0 1 2 3 4 5 ! .163 Moab MILES cap down and wearing trip at the Kane Gulch Ranger Station, ! DETAIL Mexican Hat Author’s Route LIPPUS AMY MAP: To .163 a bandana bandito-style west of Blanding, Utah, just off Highway over my nose and mouth 95, a road that was mostly dirt until the helped. Despite the warmth, I zipped up 1960s. Highway 95 was only paved in its my rain jacket to keep sand out of my entirety in 1976, earning its nickname, jersey. I could feel the fine granules filling the Bicentennial Highway. The Kane any opening in my shoes. Gulch Ranger Station is the place to pick Unfortunately, the lay of the land didn’t up permits to explore ruins on Cedar help. I was in a broad, treeless valley that Mesa and, as a put-in for backpackers, the was currently acting as a wind tunnel. station allows for overnight parking. There was nowhere to seek shelter and Unloading my bike, I strapped on my nothing to do but carry on. Staying put bags, pumped up my tires, and took a wouldn’t improve my situation. quick inventory of the extra food and After enduring my ride inside a water I was leaving in the car as an sandblasting booth for another 30 emergency backup. Then I headed north minutes, a small two-track side path came along the rolling, paved miles back to into view. My friend and photographer 95 and took a right, heading east to dirt for this trip, Eric Greene, had gone ahead roads. The low scrub vegetation was on his motorcycle to scout a place with broken in places by stands of juniper some protection. The track he found led and piñon pine trees. Sand tracks led east into a small drainage with some large off in different directions, and the Abajo rock formations and several trees for Mountains were visible to the north. protection. Less than half a mile up this After a couple of decent climbs on the path, it was calm. The wind droned on, paved road, I turned north onto dirt at but on the leeward side of a large rock, Arch Canyon Overlook Road, near the I parked my bike and lay down, my ears ruins in Mule Canyon. This road quickly still buzzing from the dusty assault. When turned soft and sandy, descending a sand and wind gang up on you, you lose. drainage and requiring a stiff climb back Fortunately, I had plenty of water, my out of it. Here I saw Eric for the first time soda-can camp stove, some bourbon, and that day. He would take a different route, enough food to hole up for the night. leapfrogging me and exploring areas After a couple of hours, the wind abated. as his curiosity dictated. We were each I pulled out my book, reading Edward self-sufficient though, with a rough plan Abbey’s prophetic words while sitting to camp together each night. Not long on my sleeping pad in a rock depression after the top, I turned east along what that cradled me nicely. My eyes still looked like a forgotten two-track. This burning from the sand and now tired was to connect me with Road from focusing on small printed words, where I would climb the abandoned Old

ADVENTURECYCLING.ORG 23 Highway 95 built in the early 1950s. It no guardrail, and big exposure. At one explored on foot. was on this two-track that the adventure point, as I walked a rock-ledge section, I I remounted my bike and headed began as I wasn’t sure that this unmarked saw a rusting heap that was a mid-1960s south on Butler Wash Road, excited by road was actually navigable by bicycle. sedan. It must have been one terrifying the ruins nearby. Soon a headwind kicked After carrying my bike across several trip off the road and several hundred feet up, which led to the episode described at deep washes, I began making good time. down to where it had stopped. I have the beginning of this account. Although it’s only a five-mile section, this no confidence that the car’s passengers faint line on the map descended 1,000 survived the fall. Afoot feet to Comb Wash. Eventually, I came to At the top, after scrambling up several Waking on Day Two of my trip, I a livestock gate that I opened and then sections that would test a serious off- had several hikes in mind. After a quick carefully closed. Looking up from the road 4x4, I reached CR228, a quiet road breakfast, I rode a few miles down gate, I gained an amazing view of the that once bustled with traffic accessing Butler Wash and met Eric at an unsigned valley below and Comb Ridge extending the uranium mine at the Cottonwood trailhead. I locked up my bike, and we jaggedly southward. I also saw that the Millsite. I didn’t stick around; instead I walked in to explore cliff-dwelling ruins road did indeed go all the way to the wash headed south, dodging some rain clouds, at the end of the trail. Because the area below. back to 95. After a short section of is pretty sensitive and not yet formally Then I began an increasingly technical pavement, I turned south again on dirt, protected, I don’t want to draw a literal descent, feeling at times as if I were this time into Butler Wash on the eastern map for others to follow. That said, with falling off the face of the earth. Aboard side of Comb Ridge. Undulations made some research online and at the local a rigid mountain bike loaded with for tough going on the sometimes sandy library, it isn’t difficult to find the sites bikepacking gear, I quickly had to remind road. Hunger came knocking after only I visited. The extra effort is certainly myself to relax, slow down, and stay in 27 miles of rugged riding, but I wanted rewarded with beautiful views and control. Despite my best efforts, I still a view with my meal so I struggled on. complexes of crumbling stone walls. managed to round a switchback with my Reaching an overlook of the valley ahead, Taking our time as we approached, Eric rear tire hissing after a particularly rocky I enjoyed my lunch while taking in the and I both began spotting pottery shards section. The sealant in my tire wouldn’t northern section of Comb Ridge. The along the trail. Reaching the overhanging fix this particular problem. I carried two eastern side along Butler Wash is the rock that welcomed ancient people and spare tubes and pulled one out to get shallower side, with smooth, rounded led them to settle there, petroglyphs myself rolling. It was only upon trying white rock shrugging up from the earth. (carvings into the rock) and pictographs to install it that I realized that I had, for At times it is broken by drainages that (wall paintings) came into view. We some inexplicable reason, a 26-inch tube create canyons with small creeks that spent an hour scouring the area, noting in the framebag of my 29-inch–wheel feed into the larger wash. In these gullies, depressions ground into the rock floor bike. I don’t even own a 26-inch bike! , more commonly that acted as pestles when Ancestral Alas, I installed the other tube, stashing known as the Anasazi (a Navajo term for Puebloans milled their maize. Small the 26-inch one in the hope that it “ancient people” or “ancient enemy”), desiccated corncobs lay undisturbed wouldn’t be needed. built their iconic cliff dwellings and almost 1,000 years after the inhabitants Finishing the descent, I crossed a planned community spaces. Other had abandoned the area. Larger pottery creek and then began another climb, the remnants include beautiful pottery and shards showed off impressive artistic previously mentioned Old Highway 95. traces of an extensive road network that skill, with painted patterns and swooping Although the name inspires images of connected the area. From parallel lines carved into the surface of tarmac, this road was anything but. It was the modern road though, none of the sites the molded clay. a steep shelf road with loose, red rock, in Butler Wash were visible. They must be Sections of the site were cordoned

24 ADVENTURE CYCLIST m a rch 2017 off with a sign saying that the areas inside acted as the garbage dump for the ancient community. With future funding, they will be excavated to further our understanding of the Ancestral Puebloans. Taking a seat at the corn-milling depressions, I looked back down on the gulley we had climbed. The area was verdant with large trees below and a flat piece of ground that I imagined as a garden. The day was gray as I sat there, with large clouds building to the west, over the rim of the rock semicircle in which we found ourselves. I couldn’t help but wonder why the people who had constructed such significant infrastructure decided to leave. Perhaps they didn’t have a choice. After exploring this and another ruin site just a few miles down the wash, rain began to fall. Eric and I both put on waterproof layers, and we reached Top: Climbing the Moki Dugway is rewarded with views of the to the east. Its dirt our two-wheeled machines after a surface was engineered to help access natural resources on in the late 1950s. longer hike into the second site. We worried that the moisture could turn I found a likewise amused Eric, and we is not over. Intricate representations the road into a muddy mess, but instead decided to hike down to the panel. I was of animals, human figures, wonderful it only dampened the dust. Ahead was grateful that I’d decided to ride in Five spirals, and other sacred images the Wolfman Panel, a large series of Ten shoes and flat pedals. The wet rock brightened my day despite the weather. petroglyphs in amazing condition, and I was slick in places, although it didn’t faze Eric and I enjoyed a short window of hoped that the weather wouldn’t send us Eric in his armored motorcycle boots. reprieve from the wet and then hiked in search of shelter instead of ancient art. Don’t expect hard-soled cycling shoes to back to our machines. As we left Butler Before reaching the panel, Mother Nature do the job. The trail down to the panel is Wash and reached Highway 163, we did dish out an impressive dumping of not apparent at times, but there is a faint headed east to the small town of Bluff. hail, and I found myself laughing out trace, and sometimes a cairn to guide you. A deluge welcomed me to town, and I loud at the difficulties that Butler Wash Wolfman Panel was beautiful with was thankful to find the Comb Ridge delivered. I had originally worried most detailed carvings made during the Bistro & Espresso Bar. With great food, about deep sand (there wasn’t any), but Basketmaker Period. Unfortunately, cold beer, and hot coffee, the restaurant wind and hail highlighted this section. in more recent times, ignorant people was an oasis. We parked ourselves on With the ground now white from a fine have fired their guns at the rock face, the porch where we were able to lay out layer of pea-sized hail, I continued south unintentionally reminding visitors that wet garments and plug in electronics. to the turnoff for Wolfman Panel. There the fight to preserve such amazing places After ingesting several thousand calories,

ADVENTURECYCLING.ORG 25 we planned to head west on 163 toward Mexican Hat with a loop through the Valley of the Gods Road, an area similar to Monument Valley with a 17-mile unpaved stretch. Slogging up the road to gain the height of Comb Ridge and beyond, the views were expansive, and the weather on the NUTS & BOLTS Comb Ridge Bikepacking horizon didn’t look good. Although it wasn’t particularly cold, the earlier hail WHEN TO GO? Gooseneck State Park, and lot of water is vital because had shown me that freezing temperatures Weather in southeastern Muley Point. Be sure to plan distances between sources were possible. Utah runs the gamut with your trip around access to can be long and progress in When more showers hit, we decided to hot days in summer and food and water as there are the Comb Ridge/Cedar Mesa stick to pavement and make for Mexican freezing temperatures in few options for both in the area is slow. If you plan to Hat and a hotel. After several blustery winter. The shoulder seasons area. tour in the area, carry more hours of riding, I arrived in the small are best, but, as I discovered, water and food than normal April can still bring hail and WHAT KIND OF BIKE? and keep daily mileages low. town along the San Juan River, greeted rain. A mountain bike is probably by blowing rain. Once I’d checked in to best when taking on the OTHER CONSIDERATIONS a local establishment with an adjoining WHERE TO BEGIN? rugged dirt roads and sandy Please tread lightly in this restaurant, predictably the sun came out. There are many great put-in washes. A fat bike would remarkable landscape. No matter. A hearty stew, fry bread, beer, points for bikepacking in offer incredible traction and Camping is something of and the sun buoyed my spirits. southeastern Utah. The Kane comfort, although it would a free-for-all in the area, The next morning, Eric feared snow Gulch Ranger Station is just be quite a bit slower on but please use previous in the Colorado mountains and lit out one option. Starting in Bluff the paved sections. I rode campsites when possible. for his home. I packed up my bike and or Mexican Hat would also a rigid mountain bike with Never take “souvenirs” from headed to the Moki Dugway, a series of work well and give easy fast-rolling Michelin Race’R ruin sites. dirt switchbacks. I had hoped to explore access to John’s Canyon, tires. The ability to carry a John’s Canyon and its interesting history,

26 ADVENTURE CYCLIST m a rch 2017 but while checking the forecast at the hotel I prioritized the ruins on Cedar Mesa. Climbing back out of the San Juan River Valley warmed me quickly, and I was surprised to see that a large portion of Utah 261 was paved. I made my way west, intersecting with the western terminus of the Valley of the Gods Road, and continued up. I took my time on the dirt climb, enjoying the clear day. Reaching the top of the dugway, I looked to the east at the spectacular red spires and mesas of the Valley of the Gods. Beyond lay the crinkled land of Comb Ridge. To the south was Monument Valley, to the north and west Cedar Mesa. It was glorious. I took a detour to eat an early lunch on Muley Point, overlooking the meandering canyon carved by the San Juan. As with much of my trip, I saw no one on the remote dirt roads, although I did have to pause at times for crossing cattle (my kind of traffic). Continuing north on 261, the undulations of the paved road took their toll on my tired legs. Battling terrain, hike-a-bike sections, wind, sand, hail, and rain had worn me down. In time I reached a high point, and as I looked down, I saw the Kane Gulch Ranger Station. Coasting the rest of the way to the parking lot, I closed my loop around Comb Ridge. Because I was now alone and a cold snap was on its way, I decided to head to the car. While the riding portion of my trip was over, I still had several hikes that would access more Ancestral Puebloan sites. I spent the rest of that day and the next exploring Moonhouse Ruins on Cedar Mesa, Natural Bridges National Monument, and another panel on a long day hike in Moab on the drive home. Although weather thwarted my hopes of exploring more by bike, in just three days my love of the area had become firmly established. No matter where we went, we walked in the footsteps of others. Ancestral Puebloan ruins, mining ruins, road ruins — some beautiful, some toxic, some a mystery, some willfully forgotten. These roads offer an excellent way to discover both the good and bad remnants of bygone eras.

Nick Legan is the Technical Editor of Adventure Cyclist. Contact him at [email protected].

ADVENTURECYCLING.ORG 27