Colorado to Santa Barbara via Moab

Uranium Mines

For Jimmy’s Bachelor party,  I flew into Denver a couple days early because my schedule allowed it.  I was picked up by Mr. Paul Rizzo,  who was gracious enough to sneak out of work and allowed me to crash at his house.

We feasted on hip deli sandwiches, and went to see his place of work while Denver was besieged by hail and tornados.  In the afternoon, after the storms settled down it was time to go out and drink in the Rhino District that has many breweries and artistic people.   Bruce and Barnoff came out to see me for my drinking tour of Denver.   After many beers and a stop at the Mile High Distillery,  we decided it was time to go to the new VooDoo donuts  (the only one outside of Oregon at the time). We pulled up feeling good,  Barnoff kept playfully whipping out his knife on me in the store. We ordered an amazing box of deliciousness (Captain Crunch, ODB, Voodoo,  Maple Bacon, Fritter, Crueler).  We ended up devouring the majority of the box in a back alley stoop right off of Colfax. The rest of the night faded into the wind, the last thing I remember is playing brown bag schnapps with Barnoff at some dive bar.

As Wednesday morning broke and I had a mile high hangover raging, we gathered Barnoff’s car and headed out thru Denver for some sandwiches.  This is when we devised a plan to go pick up his brothers diesel truck.  Rolling out to Parker, Co we test drove the torque machine – missing its bed.   I unsuccessfully tried to convince Alexis this was my new ride.   Next on the Barnoff experience day,  we went out to Bass Pro Shop where he bought a new Franchi Shotgun.  While waiting for the sketchy background check to clear, we got really familiar with all the products in the massive Bass Proshop.  We parted ways, as I was off to load up Paul’s Subaru and he was off to drive the truck 26 hrs across country to PA.

We all flowed into the campsite at Kane Springs to setup our shanty town of tarps and tents.  Afterwards, we all piled into the Sprinter and made our way to the airport to pick up Jimmy’s brother in-law Steve.  Being one of the smaller airports, Steve arrived a little bounced around from the 4 seater plane ride from Salt Lake City.  Not wasting any time, Jimmy led us to Bartlett’s Wash for some instant slickrock riding.  Rolling up and over all the rounded sandstone domes, it was like being on another planet, like a skate park on Mars.  About half way through the skies to the south got really dark and the directly above us, we saw some very “interesting” cloud rotations.  As lighting struck around us and us being on the high point in several miles, we decided it may be time to bail back to the car (me especially because lightning strikes are hereditary).  As we pulled to the van, the skies went black, and visibility dropped to several feet, as the wind and sand whipped up. We performed like a well oiled NASCAR team to get nine bikes and nine people all loaded up into one van.  Not out of the woods yet,  Jimmy floored the Sprinter out the dirt roads before the sand turned to mud and quick sand. There was a real potential of getting caught in a flash floors as we drove out on the normally dry river beds.

Waking up in the morning after one hair raising day, we pressed our luck of adventure and went rafting.  Jimmy talked to some lady in Moab and had our rafts lined up for a fun day on the river.  Jimmy was sold on the “sporty ” model of rafts, being approximately 10ft long. The Colorado River was high, fast and muddy. We put into just west of the Castle Valley, with a paper guide of what rapids to expect.  Day Day and I where the only ones with more than one trip of rafting experience, so we were automatically made trip leaders.  On my boat, I had Chris, Blake, and Stuart.  Day Day had Jimmy, Steve, John, and Paul.  Packed with beer and a needyfor adventure, we floated and drank down the flowing Colorado.  After several rapids, everyone started to get a feel for the boat.  We came into the one section that we were warned of, where the river drops below the horizon and a massive eddy.  The other boat, cruised through it cheering, we followed and hammered through all the waves, but at the very end got bounced left and sucked into the eddy.  After five powerful and tiring minutes of paddling, we were able to get out the vortex.

The next section the other boat had its run in with the river.  They pushed into one section and happened to stay a little too far right, and plowed into a rock wall and flipped.  I wasn’t looking, but all I remember was hearing Chris yell, “oh they are over.” and seeing 4 yellow helmets and 1 whicker flowing down stream along a massive rock wall.  They were able to all stay with the boat, and get to shore about 200 yards downstream in the willows. They went from pretty drunk to stone cold sober in about 3 seconds flat.  The rest of the river trip for that boat not a beer was drank and all we could see was cold faces. But as we all pulled into the sandbar, and everyone was on dry land, cheering erupted, beers were opened, and intense stories were shared and cemented.

After rafting, everyone had the evening to do any adventure they wanted, some went mountain biking, but I wasn’t feeling it and it just rained so climbing anything was out of the question.   So Steve and I went exploring the mines up above camp.  These were old uranium mines from the 60’s and 70’s.  Five of them that weren’t collapsed dotted the cliffs above camp.  One was filled with Styrofoam and had splitting passageways. Other were pretty crumbly, and had elevator shafts connecting other mines.

After deciding that we didn’t know how much radiation exposure and stable the mines were we decided to hike high up to the Wingate cliff faces.  I scramble up high to the base of the Wingate and could tell this would be a awesome cliff to climb.  Untouched hand crack, overhanging jug hauls, and moderates to the top, would make this a destination cliff, however no one would want to hike the 1hr to get to the base.  If I ever come back, I plan to make a trip up the cliff to climb these great lines.

Cleaning up in the morning, we left for Santa Barbara making a stop in Moab for some souvenirs.  I went in for some Gatorade and food at the gas station next door.  However, while I was paying for my stuff, everyone decided to leave the bike store and get in the van. As I made my way back to where the van was parked, it wasn’t there.  They had actually and truly forgot I was in the van with them.  It wasn’t till they circled back around town and saw my standing in the street with my middle finger in the air, that they saw the error of their ways.

The rest of the ride back to Santa Barbara, they made sure to check my seat to see if I was there. We swung by Monument Valley on the ride back and was able to take some could pictures.  About this time, my sickness had caught up with me, so at the next truck stop I bought and chugged some Nyquil.  I don’t remember much else of the trip, but it took about 13hrs to get back.

[Show as slideshow]