I found myself with an open weekend and a desire to revisit Arches in the style of Ed Abbey circa Desert Solitaire. No, not barefoot, drunk and dressed like a ranger. Well, maybe two out of three. Anyway, heading in to the Park using the original entrance. Still remote, dirt and a road-less-traveled way to bikepack into a place that saw 1.3 million visitors last year.
The trip starts like most trips. I eat a bunch of questionable road food on the four and a half hour trip from SLC, I get ready, I start riding. It’s October and close to 80 degrees. There is wind. There is sand. There is a sharp pain and a rumbling well below my belly button. I’m still outside of the park and in a wide valley that is distressingly void of Things To Squat Behind. I tough it out (‘tight’ it out) and spy a jumble of rocks as I come around a downhill bend. Salvation is upon me in the form of a 20-foot tall chuck of (entrada, chinle?) sandstone. Biffy Bag time!
Going to sit for a few minutes. Feeling much better, seems like a good time for a lunch break. The Biffy Bag now takes up considerably more space than it did when I first packed it. Total riding time: 35 minutes.