Hopkins 4K for Cancer

July 13, 2003

A day we won't forget
Day 43

Blanding, UT to Glen Canyon NP, UT



After a great night’s sleep—some of us on beds, others on turquoise shag carpet—at the “Cliff Palace Motel” in Blanding, Utah, it was time to make our way toward Glen Canyon. The first three miles of the ride were perfect. It was nice and cool as the sun was creeping out of the east and the road had a nice bit of a downward slope to it. Before I knew it, we whizzed past the Dinosaur Museum and were out of Blanding, where the climbing began.



The day grew hotter, but the group I was with kept their spirits high, as the towering red rock was worthy of a picture break. Along the way, we met a couple who was also making their way (on bikes, of course) to California. We were later peeved as they continued to use our water supply without asking. We can only wonder what they would have done in the middle of the Utah desert, without our Ryder truck. Perhaps that should have served as an omen for our night’s stay.



In any event, the day did get better after lunch in Fry Canyon (a “town” that was 1 building big.) The road (except for the last bit into Glen Canyon) was mostly downhill and our water stop was conveniently close to a gorgeous canyon.



By the time we reached Glen Canyon, it was 115 degrees. Many of us sought refuge in the grocery store (where it was a very cool 85 degrees) after taking naps outside the public restrooms. We set up a few tents and made dinner after the grocery store closed—still quite unaware of what the evening was going to bring.



As we ate, the smoke from the forest fire in the distance became thicker and the sky actually began to rain ash. A few people attempted to cool off in the lake, but only wound up with silt up to their knees. (Lake Powell has been draining for over seven years.) By 9:30, many of us had settled into tents or over by the restrooms for the night. Some brave souls (Rajeev and Alice) even opted to lay their sleeping bags in a space normally designated for fish cleaning.)



Soon however, the wind kicked up huge gusts of sand and didn’t stop blowing for half an hour. Three of our tents were torn down by the wind. Most of us spent the next half-hour or so searching with flashlights for gear that had been blown away and presumed lost: helmets, shoes, gloves, clothes, tent covers and more. There wasn’t much sleep to be had after that, and I think we all woke up with sand in our teeth the next morning.



Katie Knight