We latched the bikes to the Jeep and motored on over to Slickrock.
Few people were out so early, and the trail was all but deserted.
It was a cool, clear morning and I enjoyed myself thoroughly, bumping up
and over the limestone hills, right up until the hills became steep, diabolical
death traps. Dave scooted on down, but I dismounted to avoid dirtying
the bare stone with my blood. I will probably require replacement
brake pads just for the time I gripped them going down the more safe hills.
Do I exaggerate? Perhaps. The point is, I require very little
danger to thrill me. I am not yet desensitized to the specter of
serious (and expensive) injury. At the end of the practice loop,
Dave and I split ways and I trekked on back to the paved roads and dirt
2 wheel roads, while Dave negotiated the famous bare rock trail.
At 9:00 we met at the Jeep, and the biking portion of the trip concluded.
We traveled back to the hotel and checked out, then hit the road. Lunch was ordered at Subway in Fruita, Colorado. I was offended at their disposal of the democratic right to free refills. I plan to boycott that location in the future. The drive back went quickly, the miles passing by under a clear, sunny sky to the tunes of CCR, The Beatles, Maynard Ferguson, and others. By 4:00, the Jeep was backed up into the driveway at 307 Bluebird Court. By 4:30, Dave and I had shaken hands and he was on his way back south to Colorado Springs. I was about to embark on a whole new adventure of unpacking and cleaning, one that took days. Thus ended the great Canyonlands backpacking trip of '99.